


Internal Conflict

by Paranoxx



Category: Bulma - Fandom, Dragon Ball, Vegebul - Fandom, Vegeta - Fandom
Genre: Anal Play, Biting, Body Worship, Developing Relationship, Don't Judge Me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Experimental Style, F/M, Falling In Love, Fisting, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Gentleness, Inner Dialogue, Kink Exploration, Kissing, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, S&M, Spanking, Swearing, Tail Sex, Tenderness, Touching, Toys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Weird Fluff, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoxx/pseuds/Paranoxx
Summary: This is a rather experimental try on my part. Bulma and our beloved Prince have more to their lives than anyone gets to see. And are far more complicated. There's nothing wrong with exploring all the sides of the not so square, um, box. Vegeta and Bulma let no one put them in the vanilla container, unless they are tied up and given a spank, a stretch and maybe doors not yet explored. Please don't open one unless you are 18 y/o and want to (as they say) go down the rabbit hole I have created. It always comes from a place of love. Sometimes, it ends up in one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Love to everyone who gave me encouragement by continuing to read what I write. This took a long time to write but I loved it all. It was fun. Things like this always should be. Don't be offended and if you are...well...open up. (Secret smile)
> 
> For everyone who took their personal time to read this and send me such wonderfully supportive comments, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am terrible with compliments and I never know what to say (being shy should be a disability) but reading them gives me all the inspiration I could ever need and the courage to hit the post button. I lost my bravery for a few months but I didn't stop writing and it was reading what you wrote to me that gave me what I needed to post it. I thank you for your time and for your kindness in all sincerity.
> 
> Next up...External Conflict.  
> All my love,  
> Paranoxx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta

Earth.

Vegeta held himself aloft in the 400x gravity of the GR, letting his body spin slowly in the open space of the chamber. It took quite of bit of concentration to keep his body floating in this gravity. And he was injured. Pain sliced through his body that in a way that he had learned over time to enjoy. It was just pain, so be it. Just something that was not avoidable, to be accepted and acknowledged, embraced. Broken bones would heal, torn skin would knit back together and the various pains that he had to endure would fade into memory. He would become stronger. It had always that way been since his first memories. He didn’t hate his upbringing for the very simple reason that it had given him the fortitude to be the man he was. Comfort and solace were not things given to a child in his culture and he didn’t expect them now. All he could expect was more pain, hunger, thirst…loneliness.

Until he left the GR. A whole different set of expectations awaited him in the luxurious house he had been invited to stay in with the Woman and her family. Vegeta would almost rather stay in the torture room lit in furious red light and be attacked by the drones that flew around sending burning bolts of laser fire at him. Almost. His Saiyan senses were primed and he was hungry again, not that the feeling ever really went away. But his empty stomach hyped his already over powered olfactory center into such a state that he was not able to fully concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing.

After the fifth time of being blasted by a drone, Vegeta reluctantly gave it up as a bad job and hit the button that would power the GR down. Even he had to admit it was a relief to allow his exhausted body to drift back to the floor. Without really meaning to the warrior slumped down against the control panel and rested his head on his bent knees, watching the slow drip of blood tap into a puddle between his bare feet. Vegeta didn’t know where exactly the blood was coming from and found that he also didn’t care.

“Tired, so tired,” he muttered quietly and swiped a hand up over his face, spreading the sticky red into his hair. Vegeta was trying to convince himself that it would not be too much of a waste of time to drag himself off the floor and out of the room to fill his belly when a sharp tone nearly made him jump out of his skin. In less than a heartbeat he was up, fists raised and head on a swivel, looking for the threat. His aura flared over his lightly tanned skin, pain and fatigue forgotten. Instead of an enemy, he caught sight of a familiar pain in the ass on the big screen over the control panel.

“Vegeta! Are you coming to…What the hell have you been doing in there? You look terrible!” Bulma called from the speaker, her blue hair seething around her delicate face as she stared at him. Vegeta said nothing. He simply glared at the screen for a long moment and then raised his left hand with an evil little smile on his wounded face and promptly blasted a hole in the tempered glass.

_>_>_>

Vegeta was nowhere to be found when Bulma strode into the Gravity Room a few minutes later. But the room was very full of the evidence that he had been there. There were the remains of several drones slightly smoking around the room. Disturbingly, there were smears and slicks of dark red blood all over the place, from the rounded ceiling and walls to the floor. He had obviously decided at some point to remove most of his clothing; Bulma found what was left of his royal blue sub-armour, white boots and his gloves scattered around in tatters. She sighed. Just keeping the man in clothes was a chore; nothing she provided for him lasted more than a day or two the way he trained.

Looking around the room, she had to admit that as angry as he made her, Vegeta was possessed of a single minded concentration and will that she had never encountered before. Even Goku was not as driven as the Saiyan Prince and her somewhat goofy best friend did almost nothing at all but train, (And eat.)

The ragged hole in the communication screen made her clench her fists and yell a good many well-chosen swear words Bulma was glad no one else could hear. That damned man had symbolically shot her in the face. Again. Bulma kicked Vegeta’s ruined breast plate out of her way and stomped out of the GR, intent on finding him. He kept doing these things to get a rise out of her, she knew, but Bulma’s temper wouldn’t let her sit back and just let the ungrateful alien Prince blow a hole in her transmitted head without retribution.

>_>_>

Vegeta thought he would be safe from the Woman if he stayed where he was long enough. Bulma would have gone directly to the GR to scream at him after he destroyed the communication screen. So, with unrepentant stealth, Vegeta waited out of sight until he heard her sharp heels in the training room and then sprinted down the hall too fast to really be easily seen by human eyes. Able to be absolutely silent when he wanted to, the Saiyan warrior dashed into the kitchen and out again with a double arm load of everything he could carry. Panchi, Bulma’s mother, hadn’t noticed the black haired blur that divested her of at least enough food to feed her whole family twice.

By the time she turned from what she was doing, Vegeta was outside and on the roof of the large house. For all that he was bloody, sweaty and generally gross at the moment, Vegeta was very fastidious when it came to most things. He was rather obsessively organized and neat. He set out the pilfered food in a tidy arrangement around him in the shade of the side of the upper stories of the building.

 _I’ll give the human women credit, they can cook_.

Vegeta took a deep breath and then with the same single minded focus with which he tended to do almost everything, the Prince started shoveling food into his mouth like a man who had been starving for a thousand years. In truth he had eaten enough to fill most of a bath tub for lunch, but that was several hours before and his Saiyan metabolism had burned the calories up as though they had never existed.

He was busily consuming a huge bowl of ramen, eyes closed in quiet bliss, when a scent alerted him to the presence of the one person he’d come up the roof to hide from. And one who, when she set her formidable mind to it, kept finding him.

 _Blasted wench! How does she keep doing that_?

The only way to get away in time to avoid the Woman would have been to abandon his feast and that was not something Vegeta was willing to do even to preserve his hard won peace. Instead, he formed his face into an arrogant expression of distain and relaxed against the wall as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He set the bowl on the ground beside him and leaned on one elbow, slowly eating the noodles with deliberate care, waiting for her.

>_>_>

Bulma knew exactly where Vegeta was ‘hiding’. Dappy Saiyan really did not understand the concept of a security system. Why would he, though? He was his own army. All it took for her to find him was to go to her office and look for an out of place blur on the surveillance screens. It amused her that Vegeta seemed to think that she had some kind of magic power that enabled her to track him, so she had absolutely no intention of telling him the truth. It seemed a fair advantage to her as she knew he could track her by scent alone if it took his fancy.

Bulma threw the door to the roof garden open with a bang, “Vegeta! You jerk! Answer me!” she yelled with a sharp edge in her voice.

“Okay, Woman, you found me. Get the yelling over with so I can eat and bleed in peace,” Vegeta called back to her from his shaded spot.

Bulma intended to do exactly that and she took a filling breath in preparation for the large piece of her mind she had ready to share loudly with him. And then she saw him. The words dried up in her throat and she stopped her stomping. Vegeta laid on his side, his head propped up on one arm, the still steaming bowl in front of him on the ground as he ate.

But that is not what stopped Bulma. The Prince looked as though he had just crawled out of a war zone. Though there was no dirt on his skin, he was filthy. Blood and sweat mixed together to form a streaked film of pain over almost all of his body.

And she could see almost all of his body.

In his endless impatience, Vegeta had torn his clothing off (it was damaged beyond repair) while he fought the bots in the GR. Having been friends with Goku for the majority of their lives, Bulma was familiar with the uniquely Saiyan attitude towards clothes. It would seem that Vegeta and Goku had that distain in common. But unlike Goku, whose athletic beauty was the kind that inspired sisterly pride, Vegeta took her breath away.

He watched her with his obsidian eyes narrowed, no thought to the fact that he was cut, burned and covered in blood. Definitely no thought as to the fact that he was almost naked in front of her. No concern about how that sight might affect a hot blooded human woman when confronted with it; he looked perfectly relaxed and apathetic.

“Are you enjoying the view?” Vegeta asked, raising a dark brow and pushing his chest out a little.

 _Alright, not as oblivious as he pretends_.

“You are bleeding all over my roof,” Bulma retorted, not missing a beat, “There is enough of you all over the GR, I shouldn’t have to have the roof cleaned too. Get up and bleed someplace else.”

Vegeta glanced down at his chest with a look of distaste. He did not like being soiled and yet seemed to spend a great deal of his time that way. Nothing a healthy dip in the lake couldn’t fix. He said as much and prepared to take off.

“You can’t be serious. You can’t take open wounds into an unclean water source. Do you want to die of gangrene?” Bulma chided before he could launch into the air.

His aura pulsed around him but he didn’t move, “What is that?”

“It’s an infection that rots pieces of you. Comes from untreated wounds…” Bulma started to explain but Vegeta quickly lost the little interest he had.

Cutting across her words, he snapped, “Saiyans do not get ‘infections’, Woman. None of your Earth germs would dare to attack this body.”

Vegeta bent his legs again and the power flared around him.

“Stop.”

Bulma walked toward him and put one of her small hands on his forearm. Vegeta actually flinched as though she had poked him with a cattle prod and then stared down at her hand for a long moment. Bulma pulled her hand away slowly, carefully. Something about the way Vegeta looked at it frightened her. She stepped back.

Vegeta covered his skin where she was touched it. As if no one ever touched him without the intent to cause pain and he was uncertain how to react when she did. After a moment he looked back up at her and his black eyes were wider, beautiful. But he said nothing. There was suddenly something very vulnerable in Vegeta’s face, the way he held his arm.

Bulma reached out again, but her hand stopped short of contact. “Come down, Vegeta. I will patch you up. Saiyan or not, you have to be in a good deal of pain,” she said softly, imploringly. When he opened his mouth to no doubt protest again, she held her hand up to his mouth without actually touching him and reminded him that he was still bleeding on her roof.

It broke the strange tension and he laughed.

Then his face settled back into the normal scowl that was a Vegeta default setting and he walked past her, “Do you know how to stitch, Woman? You seem a bit pampered for sewing skills.”

Bulma snorted and followed him, “I can certainly sew your lips shut.”

She couldn’t see it but Vegeta smiled. There were times when he did enjoy her ruthless mouth. That thought almost stopped him up short.

Her mouth…

 _Keep walking, stupid, she’s human, she’s fragile and she mostly hates you_.

>_>_>

Bulma did not stop her thoughts from roaming over the alien man’s body. Instead, she took the opportunity to fill her eyes with him. He was without doubt the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Every line and valley of his thickly muscled body was as perfectly drawn as a work of art. The flowing grace with which he moved would have been quite at home on a dancer but the lethality was far too apparent when Vegeta moved for such a gentle art.

He was a warrior in every way; a dangerous combination of weapon and skill that meant death to anything or anyone he decided to destroy. But knowing that did not stop her from seeing the way that he swayed when he walked, the ripple of his skin, the switch of his long tail. He stepped lightly, silently making his way through the house.

_Stop looking at him, Bulma!_

“Go to my bathroom,” Bulma instructed, shaking her thoughts away, “That’s where my medical supplies are.”

Vegeta grunted in his normal acknowledgment and turned a corner. Bulma wished that her quarters were farther away, watching him walk was something she would have liked to continue to do for quite a bit longer. Such a round, perfect ass…

_Stop, it!_

>_>_>

Vegeta knew she was watching him. It wasn’t only the fact that his battle senses could feel her eyes on him; he could also smell the Woman. Bulma changed her perfume just about daily and as a consequence Vegeta simply ignored her simulated scent and had acclimated himself to her natural smell. All beings had a scent that was particular to them and with a little practice it was easy for a Saiyan to distinguish them. Vegeta had the habit of memorizing the scents of all beings he had regular contact with. He did not like being taken by surprise by their presence.

He could smell her now but there was a slight difference from her regular scent. A secret smile curved his mouth and he let his body loosen a little, his tail unwinding from around his waist to swipe the air behind him. His hips rolled as he walked, his body barely covered by his boxer briefs and he found he liked knowing she was watching him.

When she touched him it had shocked him, but this was pleasant. And from the spice of her scent, Bulma was aroused.

_Interesting._

Vegeta would be lying to himself if he were to say he had not thought about it. But Bulma was also the only human female, the only female of any kind, he had contact with regularly. Except for Panchi and she was too married, way too Bulma’s mother and way, way too vapid to be thought of as anything other than an excellent source of free, well made food.

Still, beyond the fact that he could have seen her as a simple lack of options, Vegeta was not blind enough not to notice how pretty Bulma was. When she was fired up and angry, eyes flashing, voice powerful and right in his face, Bulma was glorious.

This was different, new. She had never, to his knowledge lusted after him before. Just that was enough to make Vegeta stiffen slightly. For a moment he considered, seriously, removing himself from the situation. But something prevented it.

_I don’t want to leave. I’m tired of being alone._

There was no way at all to hide his arousal and so he didn’t try. She would see if she chose to look and there was nothing he was prepared to do but own it. After all she wasn’t trying to hide her scent and it would be diverting to see what her reaction would be. He almost laughed aloud at the thought that she might actually find a reason to yell at him about it, to be angry or offended. Bulma was a strange woman, in Vegeta’s opinion, so it was probably just as likely that she might be just as willing as he suddenly was to see where this new road might lead.

He knew she hadn’t been with anyone in at least as long as he had been in her house, he would have been able to tell if she had. So she might be just as deprived as he was in that respect. The Saiyan shook his head violently.

_What the HELL is wrong with me?_

Vegeta took several deep breaths and tried to settle himself. He had been injured in the GR and was in pain. He had fought until he was at the point of collapse. His body pushed to its limits and now, having eaten, he was healing. Without making it obvious to the Woman behind him, Vegeta flicked the head of his semi- erection with his fingers and bit his tongue at the sharp pain that sent through his body.

He knew this sudden and intense lust that pumped through him was a side effect of his current condition. It had happened before. After being hurt, while he was in pain and healing he had experienced intense arousal, it was a Saiyan thing. But also not a safe thing to be caught by when the only female available happened to be a weak and breakable human.

The scent coming from Bulma didn’t help at all, nor did the fact that she was, at that moment leading him into her bathroom. The shining white and lavender bathing chamber opened directly to her bedroom and he could see her wide, dark purple satin bed through the door.

_Blue hair and white skin on purple satin. I wonder how much bounce that bed has..._

>_>_>

Bulma wasn’t looking directly at Vegeta when she instructed him to sit on the seat of the dressing table. Trying to forget the curving slope of his powerful back, she busied herself digging the med kit out and gathering the other things she thought she might need. Gauze, lots of it and peroxide, stitching silk and the curved needle she would have to use to sew up the worst of the cuts he seemed to think would just disappear if he ignored them long enough. 

“On second thought, come sit in the tub! You are still bleeding,” Bulma ordered after a quick glance at the man on her formerly white vanity chair. Vegeta huffed. No one in his life had ever ordered him around like she did.

“Woman, I am a Prince! You do not demand that I-“

“Be a Prince in the bath tub!”

He stood up slowly and did as she commanded, if for no other reason than it would make her stop yelling at him. Bulma turned and caught sight of him as he raised a thick thigh to step into her deep tub.

_Oh my gods!_

Vegeta’s head snapped around at the sound of the metal med kit hitting the tile floor. Bulma instantly leaned down to gather up the things at her feet, her face turning a delicate shade of pink. Vegeta laid a large hand over his groin and was not surprised to find that his self-abuse had not had the intended effect. He was still semi hard, his size quite apparent even though he was nowhere near fully engorged. And Bulma had had a full, unobstructed view of that intimidating sight.

Vegeta spread his feet and stood up to his full height, hands on his hips and his chin lifted in the regal posture he was born with. Watching the flushed woman excited him and he did not attempt to hide himself, though he could not explain to himself why. Instead, Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, gave a command of his own.

_I must have brain damage. Am I really about to do this?_

“Look at me, Woman.”

Bulma swallowed heavily, she did not want to look back at him. This man was far too distracting to be good for any woman and she was far too impulsive to be near him. She felt her heart beat in her ears and the blood rush to her face.

_Attraction. I wonder just how big..._

“Look. At. Me,” he repeated with that deep, commanding voice and Bulma felt her face tilt up without her total consent.

A God. That is what she saw in front of her. A man but possessed of such perfection that she didn’t know what to do with her body or her mind. His face was sharp, as though a master sculptor had carved him out of stone, the small smile on his light pink lips a taunt to her. Bulma was best friends with one of the most powerful beings in the universe and yet this man before her pulled her self-control away like a badly rolled ball of Christmas paper.

The way he stood, chest extended and his chin tucked down with those black, glittering eyes watching her the way a predator watches prey, fists on his slender hips. His skin, tanned and smooth, but scarred and calloused in places. He did not try to hide any part of himself from her; seemed to enjoy her eyes on him.

Arrogant.

Regal.

Breath taking.

She put the kit down and steadied herself with a deep breath. Bulma lifted her eyes to look at the Prince.

_What am I doing?_

>_>_>

“Sit down,” she demanded and watched as he did as she declared smirking at her discomfiture. Vegeta smiled and folded himself down and then spread his strong legs out along the porcelain bottom of the big tub. Bulma felt an evil grin spread over her face. He thought he had this situation under control.

_Well, take this, Badman!_

Taking the mobile shower head in her hands, Bulma turned the water on to full blast and pointed the spray directly at Vegeta’s stomach. Cold water shot out in full stream and hit him with a freezing jet that made him cry out loudly. Vegeta drew his legs up to his chest and shot out of the bathtub like a rocket. He slammed into the ceiling, his head making a crater in the plaster, yelling all the while in surprise and shock and probably homicidal rage.

Bulma dropped the shower head, laughing breathlessly at his reaction. It was not often a human managed to get one over on a Saiyan. His response was intensely funny to her. As for some reason, was the possibility that he might just shoot a ki blast through her head for real this time.

Vegeta, on the other hand did not think it was hilarious at all. He hovered by the ceiling, his legs drawn up to his chest and stared down at the cackling woman, a rather injured expression on his face. Trust was always something that ended up biting you in the ass.

Bulma looked up and her laughter died. He was hurt and she had just added to the pain he was already in. Regret filled her and she stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Vegeta drifted away from the tub and let his legs down to stand on the other side of the bathing chamber, watching her with black, narrow eyes. “Bitch.”

“Yes. I am. But still… Sorry,” Bulma said, blue eyes steady and almost contrite. Almost.

She smiled again and gestured to the bathtub. “I won’t do that again. Sit down.” Vegeta didn’t trust her at all but something about the way she spoke was, well, beguiling. She had actually apologized.

_Hell must be freezing over._

And there was always the fact that if she blasted him with cold water again he could simply fire a ki ball at her and put her permanently out of his misery. That was reassuring in its own way. Vegeta stepped up and into the bath tub, stretching his legs out again and staring at the Woman. Daring her. Bulma stared back at the man for a long moment and made a tentative decision. He leaned back against the curving side of the tub and spread his arms along the edge, closing his eyes.

Vegeta was not tall but that didn’t change the fact that he was striking. Strong and carved from granite wouldn’t begin to describe the way he was shaped. Powerful. Gorgeous.

“Take what’s left of your clothes off, Vegeta,” Bulma said, sitting on the side of the tub and turning on the water. She adjusted the temperature and plugged the drain, watching him intently. Vegeta went still. The Woman had told him to do something that normally he would not have hesitated to comply with, but the way she looked at him made him nervous. Freezing water at full blast on a warm erection was not something he was in a hurry to live through again. But...

_Why the hell not?_

The water ran out in a torrent, hot and welcome against his skin. He stood up and with one single fluid motion pushed his briefs down to his feet. Stepping out of them, he threw them across the chamber holding eye contact with her and slowly lowered himself back down. She watched him and he let her. The water began to fill the basin and Vegeta laid back in it, naked, to let her look at him.

She obviously wanted to see him and it was stimulating to be looked at this way, so why not let her. After a minute, another thought occurred to him.

_Why should she have all the fun?_

“This would be better for me if you took your clothes off too,” he said, reaching out to hook a finger in the narrow strap that held her thin shirt up. Bulma went still, watching him intently. But she didn’t move away or stop him as Vegeta let the back of his fingers caress the soft skin of her shoulder. Goosebumps rose along her arms and she flushed prettily, her scent intensified prompting Vegeta to take a long, slow breath.

He pulled his chi in and focused it of the ends of the fingers of his right hand, making a flare of heat that instantly burned through the fine material of her skirt. Bulma cried out softly in fear of being burned, but the Saiyan closed his fist over the singed fabric and held it until the heat was gone. He smiled at her in the same way he tended to smile at a particularly delectable bit of prey before pouncing and took the other strap of her shirt in his hand. Bulma felt the flare of heat and shuddered, though from fear or excitement she wasn’t sure.

_Why am I letting him do this?_

Vegeta released the cloth and let his hand relax back onto the side of the tub, his hand balling into a tight fist as her watched her skirt fold over itself and slide down over her breasts. As usual, Bulma wore a delicate lace bra that neither hid her nipples nor changed the natural shape of her bosom. The only purpose the mostly useless garment served was to make her feel sexy in her own mind. It served the same purpose in Vegeta’s mind now that he could see it.

_Why is she letting me do this?_

Bulma tried to slow her breathing and not let her eyes drop below the water line of the tub at the same time and failed simultaneously at both things. Vegeta sat up and turned the water off, then sat back again and spread his arms out. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes again. Without his eyes on her, Bulma found that she could not stop herself from letting her gaze wander hungrily from Vegeta’s corded neck over his heavily muscled chest, down to his rippled abdomen and then lower.

_Saiyans have happy trails…_

The thin line of black hair went from his navel down over his lower abdomen to meet up with the small, close cut triangle of hair framing his very prominent and very erect penis. Bulma bit back a gasp at the sight; at the size. The weight of her stare seemed to have an effect of the thick organ; it lifted up so that tip came out of the water, curved back and touched Vegeta’s stomach.

_Our tails are not the only things we have that are prehensile, Lady._

A low purring sound brought Bulma’s attention back to a point far more to the north of Vegeta’s lap. She felt her face turn bright red as she looked at his face. He was watching her with a lascivious smile on his lips, the tip of his tongue just visible between his teeth. The sound he made was rather like she would imagine a tiger would sound like if it could purr, deep, seductive and dangerous. Just the kind of sound a predator might make to lure its prey into a hypnotic sense of wellbeing before the final, lethal pounce. It was a sound that invited the prey to come closer. To touch, to pet, to taste…

_What the fuck is he doing to me?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything has to start somewhere and the way is usually unexpected. Finding out how much you want and how much you can take always starts with a single touch that pushed you over the edge. The edge is only the beginning, you have to fall after that.

The way she stared at him made the handsome Saiyan rumble deep in his chest. He knew that the size of the organ he’d been so generously gifted with was impressive. Seemed to be that way with all the fighters he knew. A testosterone thing, Bulma’s father had once remarked after seeing him naked.

But it had not occurred to him the effect this might have on women. Vegeta was a Saiyan. They were all large in all respects that mattered. Raditz, Nappa and even (ugh) Kakarot were all well-endowed. But Bulma would never have seen his partners in destruction and she thought of Kakarot as a brother. 

_That means the only cock she’s ever seen is Yamcha’s!_

Suddenly and without the slightest warning, Vegeta threw his head back and laughed. The man didn’t laugh very often, so it was rather a shock to hear and made Bulma fall over backwards, swearing, off the side of the tub. But it was also full throated and deeply, oddly sensual.

“What the fuck is so funny?” Bulma growled, working her way back to the side of the tub and blushing furiously at the idea that he was laughing at her.

Vegeta tried to stop, caught sight of her face and roared even louder. He very simply couldn’t help it. If the rest of the Weakling was a pathetic as his ability to stay alive through the first 10 minutes of a battle, it was no wonder Bulma stared as though she could not believe was she was seeing.

Bulma was determined not to look foolish. She had no idea what made the arrogant Saiyan Prince laugh like that, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. She had the vague idea that he might be laughing at her, in her current state of undress, but somehow she doubted that. Bulma was, in her way, just as conceited as the Prince. 

Well aware of her usual effect on men, (if Yamcha’s reaction to first seeing her naked was a hint, or Krillin’s, or the pervert Roshi’s. Even her naïve and innocent Goku was any indication) she was just as attractive and well-proportioned and correctly manufactured to them as she thought herself to be.

_Way too many guys have seen me naked! Ech! Even that stupid pig, Oolong! What the eff Toriyama?_

She was a pretty good judge of human females and felt in the depth of her estimation of herself not to be lacking. It was a testament to her own confidence that she didn’t try to cover herself. Instead, Bulma sighed and waited for this inexplicable laughing fit to pass.

Vegeta swallowed his laughter when he was able and considered his position. He was the one naked before this Woman; it was not the picture he wished to portray; to be laughing idiot. That was Kakarot’s job. He focused on her again, first on her face with the wide azure blue eyes and then on the lace covered enjoyment that she still made no move to conceal. 

The Prince let the laughter leave him as naturally as it had come. He relaxed again in the hot water, all thoughts of Yamcha dissipating like soap suds. The beta male didn’t matter. Not really and definitely not now.

“Well, if that’s over,” Bulma murmured. Vegeta waited and then to his delight felt hot water poured over his chest. He really did not like being covered in blood and sweat, it went against the instincts he had as a royal. And it felt delicious. His body was his strength; he tended to treat it with respect. Why the Woman would wash him wasn’t important. 

_And she is still looking at me._

Bulma was flushed and hot with the steam rising from the tub. The only way she could see to cover her confusion at his laughter was to continue what she was doing as though it had never happened. Ignoring the things people did that made her look like less than the goddess she believed herself to be had worked for her in the past, so why not use that strategy now?

_Besides, I want to touch him…_

Water flowed from the cup she used to pour it over the muscles of his chest and shoulders. Vegeta was still, his face composed in a way that made her believe she was not doing something he found unpleasant. His upper half was still covered in blood, streaked and cut; she would need to see the wounds to treat them.

_Yeah, that’s a perfect excuse._

Blood and gore came away from his skin with the water. Bulma was impressed that the man did not so much as flinch as it must have at least stung. The water was hot and a couple of the cuts on his skin were deep enough that just the flow of water caused them to start seeping again. To look at his face, Bulma would have thought he was having a leisurely soak in a hot tub at a spa. Not that he was naked and wounded and still bleeding after a particularly violent spar with her bots in the GR. 

_How does anything about this man shock me anymore?_

>_>_>_

The water was hot. It stung on the cuts and scrapes and wounds he had incurred in the GR. And under no circumstances would he admit to the slightest discomfort. Vegeta decided he was totally focused on the pleasant feeling of the Woman pouring water over his skin. No one had ever done this before. He had no memory of a mother every caring for him; he was, as far as he knew, raised from a fetus in a pod. His father had done exactly nothing to show him care as a baby or a child. No. He had had Nappa and Raditz and battle and training and that was all. 

Water flowed over his chest, hot and soothing over his neck and stomach. The Woman leaned over to pour it, her pretty face and her blue hair close enough to touch. Her hands were small but they made him want her to touch him, he felt it. Her scent was sweet and distinct. The sight of her very human limbs..

_It would be so easy to hurt her. It would be so easy not to._

 >_>_>_

Bulma tipped the water cup down and watched liquid flow over Vegeta’s chest. Streaks of blood turned it pink and revealed the cuts on his skin. There was one on his right should that would require stitching, but he didn’t seem to notice.

_Why does he hurt himself so badly?_

Trying to ignore the urge to look at the erection pressing itself against the lickable expanse of his lower abdomen, Bulma turned to the extensive arrangement of products she kept by the tub. They were all expensive and they all smelled like female, so it was hard to choose which one she would like to associate with this hard, murderous Prince.

_I am choosing a smell for him now?_

A bottle with a light purple label caught her eye and picking it up, she sniffed it. Lavender. A soothing and gentle scent, the exact opposite of anything she would think of when Vegeta was in her mind. No. That wasn’t right. Something more male. Lavender wouldn’t work. Another small bottle caught her eye. Sandalwood. That scent was perfect. Bulma picked it up and poured a good amount into the water around his body. Vegeta inhaled deeply, sighed and slipped a little deeper into the water.

 _He likes it. I like it_. 

There was a soap that went with the sandalwood scent, it lathered nicely on his skin when Bulma rubbed it into his shoulders. The Prince made a soft sound that caused Bulma’s mouth to go dry. Usually they yelled at each other. 

_I wonder what other kinds of sounds I can get him to make. Purring?_

She tried to avoid the wounds as much as possible while she soaped him down. Vegeta, for his part, didn’t move or even attempt to help. There was clotted blood in his hair, Bulma noticed.

_Gross!_

>_>_>_

Vegeta kept every muscle in his body stock still while the Woman’s tender hands lathered the soap over his upper half. The scent was warm and reminded him of forests he had been in in his youth; pleasant times when he wasn’t killing or fighting. The soap was foamy and though it stung his wounds, Vegeta didn’t draw away. He did, however, flinch and splutter when a great amount of water was poured over his head.

“Woman!?” he cried, spitting water out of his mouth. Bulma was smiling, the large cup still in her hand. Very deliberately she dipped up another full measure and dumped it over his head. Vegeta’s long hair coursed down over his face, heavy and soaked. He lifted his hands to push it away, only to have her slap at him and then hold his wrists to stop him.

“There is blood in your hair. Stay still!” she said, pushing his hands back down. Vegeta lowered his hands, but with bad grace, cursing at her under his breath. Another cupful of hot water was unceremoniously dumped on his head before he was allowed to wipe his eyes. The Woman was holding a bottle, from which she squeezed some sort of amber goo. Serious now, she put this into his hair and began to work it through the thick mass in a way that felt like worship.

Vegeta froze for a very long moment, unused to being touched in this way. But the scent of the lather and feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp intoxicated him, as did the nearness of those lace covered breasts. 

_This is too much! But please don’t stop…_

Bulma bent forward, her hands making magic on top of Vegeta’s head. Something soft and giving pressed against his shoulder, moving in tandem with her hands. Vegeta couldn’t open his eyes to look but knew instinctively that he wanted to touch the thing touching him. His breath caught in his throat. Trying to deal with his arousal was painful. The tip of his penis, still poking out of the water against his stomach throbbed.

 _I can’t take this._  

>_>_>_

His hair was softer than she imagined it would be. Thick as the fur on a lion’s mane and as soft as silk, it felt good in her hands. 

 _I wonder if all his hair feels like this_? 

Bulma worked her hands through the mass of black with relish, digging her fingertips into Vegeta’s scalp. When she realized that her breast was pressed against his shoulder, she inhaled so sharply that it flattened against his hot skin. Vegeta was all muscle, battle honed with pure strength. The width of him was such that when she bent even slightly, it was impossible to avoid touching him with more than her hands.

_Please don’t move._

The lace of the bra that covered her full breasts quickly became soaked and she didn’t care at all. Deliberately, Bulma pressed closer, rubbing herself against the solid curve of his shoulder and sinking her hands into his hair. She explored the round shape of his head and then the thick slope of his neck with her fingers, excited and aroused. But the feeling of these things was second in her mind to the friction of her nipples against his skin. He didn’t pull away. Bulma had never been so grateful to someone for staying still in her whole life.

Her eyes fell back to water line and the smooth, perfect head of Vegeta’s cock that strained toward her against his stomach. All at once she went from aroused to fire, nipples tensing and her insides tightening to the point of pain. She bit the inside of her cheek, taking a shaky breath.

_This is insane! I am insane! Completely and utterly insane!_

>_>_>_

Another several loads of water were dumped over the Prince’s head, but at least this time the Woman warned him first so Vegeta didn’t end up with a mouthful of suds. Without thinking about it he shook his head violently, sending water everywhere. Mostly onto the human woman behind and to the side of him. 

“Damn it!” she swore and he felt the warmth from her body move away. Once he’d cleared his eyes, Vegeta fixed on her. Bulma’s back was to him and she was wiping at her face and front with a lavender towel. When she turned back to face the Prince, Vegeta drew his breath in with a sharp hiss. 

The water had fairly soaked her, plastering her hair back from her forehead and the fabric of the bra to the pink tipped mounds of her ample chest. Her flat stomach gleamed with moisture, a fat drop caught in the slit of her belly button. She was breathing hard, taking deeper breaths that made her chest move in the most inviting way.

_Holy shit…_

Vegeta sat up bolt straight, which had two instant consequences. One- it drew the exposed tip of his penis back below the surface of the hot water, which felt like a caress. Two- it brought the length of that same eager organ up against the hardness of his stomach, which was a caress.

_I am going to die in a bathtub._

Without taking his eyes off Bulma, Vegeta slowly stood up. Water coursed over the valleys and curves of his body like rain down a mountain range. He stepped out, not concerned in the slightest of the water that spilled all over floor. Bulma, eyes wide, watched him with her mouth slightly open, her hands drawing the wet towel up against her chest. 

Vegeta felt the weight of his erection pull his cock away from its upright position, making it point in a graceful bow directly at the place where it wanted to bury itself. His tail switched restlessly behind him for a moment and then he deliberately moved it forward and around his penis, drawing the heavy thing back up against his body. The soft, wet sable fur felt incredible, as did the firm pressure. When he saw her blue gaze drop to take in this sight, Vegeta moved the coil of his tail up and then down the length of his cock, pleasuring himself.

_I love being a man._

Bulma backed away until she ran into the vanity table and had to stop. Vegeta, who had every intension of violating her personal space, smiled in a way that showed his sharp canines while he stalked her. He stretched out a powerful arm and delicately plucked the towel she held out of her hands, swiping it over his own face before dropping it to the floor.

Bulma couldn’t take her eyes off of him. The black fathomless eyes that stared into hers, the beautiful face with that arrogant smile, his body carved from stone and covered in silk. The coils of his dark brown tail wrapped around that magnificent erection with its pearl of clear desire beaded on the round tip.

_I’m going to faint if he touches me._

Vegeta reached out again, still standing at arm’s length and using a single finger pushed her hovering hands away from her breasts.

_I’m going to scream if he doesn’t touch me._

Vegeta didn’t move for a long moment, his large, finely made hand just close enough that she could feel the warmth on her skin. His half lidded gaze rose from her bosom to her lips and then settled on her eyes, but he still didn’t move.

_He’s giving me time to get away. I don’t want to get away._

Bulma leaned forward a fraction of an inch and took a very deep breath.

Every muscle and tendon in the Prince’s entire body tightened; he couldn’t breathe. Lightening shot through him making his aura flare out around him in golden light. The Woman had leaned into his touch, inhaling in a way that made the very tip of her breast press just tauntingly against the backs of his fingers. Such a slight touch, so tentative and cautious and yet it had the same effect on him that it would have if she had reached out and taken his dick in her hand. His tail squeezed and the delicate drop of arousal slid down as another, larger one took its place. 

Vegeta had just enough control not to turn completely golden, afraid that might actually hurt her, but it was a very close thing. He took several rapid breaths then a half step closer to Bulma. The backs of his fingers burned with the effort not to turn his hand and take her into his palm. Instead, he softly ran the ridges of his knuckles over the swollen nipple in the lace, listening to the Woman’s heart hammer and breathing her spiced scent.

_I need a moment or I’m going to bend her over that table right here, right now._

Vegeta unwound his tail and changed its position, wrapping it around himself like a belt whose function was keeping the surging erection from touching the Woman. He ran his fingers over her nipple again, his other hand rising to give the same treatment to her other breast. 

Bulma sucked her bottom lip into her mouth; eyes closed now and tilted her head back, arching her body to silently beg for more. The Saiyan prince rubbed his big hands over both her engorged tits and it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

_Gods, I wish he would just grab me and-_

The thought died in her mind, replaced by blinding arousal and a choked plea. There was a very marked difference between the way his gentle fingers felt and the heat and pulling agony of his mouth. Bulma opened her eyes and looked down at the top of Vegeta’s spiky head, pressed against her chest. He lifted her breast in the palm of his hand and sucked the tip deeper into his mouth. The feeling bloomed inside Bulma, gathering in the lower part of her belly and seeping down lower to the pulsing triangle between her legs. 

_Ahhhh!_

His thumb hooked into the fabric that kept her skin from him and pulled it out of the way. Bulma had full, high tits that spilled out easily over the top of the pretty under garment. Once the nipple was bare, Vegeta was merciless. He suckled hard, taking as much of her as he could. First one and then the other until Bulma buried her hands in his hair and curved herself around him, holding his head tightly to her.

_Can’t suck too hard, not really. Bite me…_

Vegeta pushed the Woman backwards over the vanity, taking a moment to simply rip the useless bra out of his way. Her breasts jutted upward and spread apart slightly in that position, letting him bury his face between the two hills and lick the flawless skin of her chest. He ran his tongue along the underside of each breast, tasting the heat of her body and loving the ultra-soft texture of her skin there. 

When he returned to the peaks, she pushed against him roughly, small sounds coming from her that made his insides clench. Experimentally, Vegeta took a hard nipple between his teeth, not biting but applying enough pressure that he knew she could feel the difference.

“Yess!” she hissed and taking her other nipple with her thumb and fore finger, Bulma squeezed and twisted it in a savage way.

_Please!_

He bit down, the little bud so resilient, so ripe in his mouth. Bulma shuddered, crying out, both hands fisting his hair hard enough to hurt.

_So, she likes it rough…_

That was perfect, more than perfect, to Vegeta. He was Saiyan, violent by nature and in his heightened state of physical arousal all his instincts were nowhere near the realm of gentle. He would have tried for her sake, humans were so very fragile; especially the females. He would still hold back as he had no wish to really harm her and knew it was a very certain eventuality if he lost control.

_But let’s see how much she can take._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Give me a little more. Make me want a little more. Take a little more.

Chapter 3

Bulma was a far more complicated person than people generally gave her credit for. She was a genius and inventor; certainly. A self-entitled bitch and a brat; of course. Since almost every person she was remotely close to happened to be a guy and a warrior at that, no one ever seemed to remember that she was a woman.

Vegeta had known her for the shortest amount of time; he had not gone blind to the femininity that she dripped from her every pore. And he was in no way concerned with what the other fighters might think about was he was about to do.

_Slowly. Slowly._

Without any experience of human women, all he could go on was instinct. But flesh is flesh and Vegeta followed his feelings. He rolled her nipple between his teeth, firm and just shy of real pain. Then he released the little nub and sucked softly, soothing it. She moaned, keeping her arms around his head and neck, keeping him close.

Vegeta switched sides, biting and pulling at her other bare breast. But he did not entirely leave the first one. Instead, he pulled the flushed and hard nipple with his fingers, keeping it overly sensitized and tender. He squeezed her, excited by the way her fair skin pinked at his touch and the way her breath caught when he bit her. 

_I want to bite..._

He didn’t stop what he was doing with his mouth, moving slowly from one breast to the other and back again as he felt her need rising. Bulma held him tightly, her head back, letting him play with her as though they had done this many times.

Vegeta wanted more. Her scent was strong to his senses, he knew that she would be very wet if he were to touch her now. 

_I’m going to touch her now._

>_>_>_

All her life Bulma had been treated as something small and soft and pampered. First by her parents and then by her boyfriend. Her friends were all fighters, all so much stronger than she and the woman was tired of being the weak link in the chain. Vegeta was the first person not to give her the gentle treatment and she was so aroused that she felt as though she should throw him down and dominate. Or try to. Or not. Her own thoughts made no sense to her. Part of her didn’t want to be in charge anymore. Part of her wanted… something else.+

 _Him on top_.

But it was what she had always done. Always being an alpha. Whenever something bad happened, the Z fighters; all the strongest, most frightening people on the planet, came to her for help; of the more mental kind. She would provide all the tech they needed and then she would inevitably be left on the side lines to watch (or cower in a cave) while they fought and died and won. It was maddening. 

Right now, she was in a position to give up that control. Vegeta was so much stronger than she, so commanding. And he was a prince, for fucks sake and how hot was that! She wanted to touch him, to have him touch her. The feeling of his bite on her breasts was almost too much to handle, but it was only the tip of a desire that she had never been able to experience.

Bulma pulled harder on the soft, thick hair in her hands, rubbing her face in the mass. 

“Again.”

Vegeta’s way of touching her was overwhelming. He bit and then loved the pain away with the smoothness of his tongue: again and again. The harder he suckled and nipped at her tender flesh, the sweeter the pleasure when his mouth turned soft and careful. 

Gradually, Bulma realized that he was no longer using his hands. Well, he was, just in a different way. She felt the pressure of his palms on the sides of her hips and then down the outsides of both thighs. He had opened the top button of her pants and at some point the zipper. With each pass of his hands down her legs, he was easing the protection of the garment away. His thumbs ran under the waist band and then around to cup her ass, inside her pants.

 _Yes…Just a little right there_.

Vegeta gripped her buttocks; (his hands a perfect fit) and pulled them apart. Bulma gasped. That was impossible to ignore. Electricity flashed up through her from the heat of his hands, the sting of his sharp teeth and her own desire for more. Before she had time to fully react, the Saiyan seemed to decide that, like the flimsy material of her bra, the pants were very much in his way. His hands slid down again, taking her pants with them down her thighs, down her calves and dropping them in a pool at her feet. 

Vegeta lifted Bulma, using his tail to toss the discarded garment away from them. He had let go of himself, allowing his cock to stretch out for her body, but not to touch her. Instead, he knelt on the wet floor before her and looked up into her blushing and breathless face. +

_This is out of control._

>_>_>_

Using the powerful muscles of his corded thighs, Vegeta held himself just high enough from the floor so that his cock didn’t touch the cold floor and his face was roughly level with the Woman’s lace covered center. He took her by the ankles and tugged, urging her to part her legs, but again giving her the option to resist. He wanted to break down her defenses, not to force her. 

_She will want this…_

She opened her eyes and looked down at him when the sable touch of his tail wrapped around her leg. Vegeta smiled, licking his lips, waiting. Bulma braced herself on the edge of the vanity table with both hands and let him move her feet a few inches apart. She was breathing fast, watching him with wide, dilated blue eyes and he loved it.

Vegeta took in the beautiful shape of her body, softly female and inviting. Her swollen breasts bore the marks of his attentions and his dick jumped as he imagined how it would feel to slide that hard length between those two pink hills. Another clear drop fell from him, he was so ready for her.

_Not yet…_

He was willing to make her wait for him. To make her ask. 

_Beg._

Vegeta focused on the woman in front of him and made a concerted effort to control his own body. The blue triangle of her center of pleasure was right in front of his face and Vegeta could not help himself when the urge came over him to press his nose against her and breathe in. She smelled sweet, erotic and he repeated the maneuver for the uncomplicated reason that it was a turn on.

Eyes closed, Vegeta took a long, slow lick of the wet fabric over Bulma’s lower lips. She writhed, took a hitched breath and opened her legs a little wider. He did it again. And again. Using the flat of his tongue to tease her. Then, the pointed tip. Even the tongue of a Saiyan is precise and strong when used in the right way.

Bulma pulsed against his mouth and then, of her own volition, moved the thin lace of her panties aside, baring her most vulnerable parts to the Prince.

Vegeta smiled secretly, his own body hurting a little with the knowledge that he had her. A lick with just the end of his mobile tongue made her move closer, open wider. Another, deeper lick flicked over her clitoris and she was fully open to him. The Prince took both her thighs in his hands and pulled them apart, this time roughly. Turning his face to the side, Vegeta clamped his mouth down on the slit and kissed it deeply, just as he would her mouth. His long tongue flittered in and out of the small opening, sucking at her insides. His lips stroked the little nub that held the nerves that could drive the Woman insane and Vegeta knew it. Nature, it seemed, had stayed close to home in the design of humanoid females, Bulma was pink in all the right parts. 

He was a master at reading the power levels of other beings. Using it for this purpose was unorthodox but he was also a magnus when it came to winning against outlandish odds. Bulma was on the edge, Vegeta could taste it in her, could feel it in the way she moved against him.

The scrap of lace annoyed him and so he ripped it away and Bulma didn’t notice. Her hands clenched, her thighs quivered and she made sounds that gave Vegeta to know that she would only need a little more of his mouth to fall over the edge.

He stopped. The cruel, little grin that spread his lips was wicked. Her body open before him, Vegeta, used his thumbs to make small circles over Bulma’s wet vagina and then lower. He touched her tightly curled ass, using her own fluid to moisten her there. But to tease her only. 

_Not yet._

>_>_>_

When Vegeta lifted his head and stopped licking at her, Bulma thought she would have to scream, kill him or both.

_Bastard of a freaking tease!_

It felt so very good; the Prince knew exactly what he was doing.

And then he simply stopped. His hands, warm and large gripped her thighs, holding them apart when all she wanted to do was press them together and squeeze her clit. He wouldn’t let her. And he didn’t touch her again. 

_Ask me to touch you, Bulma…_

For a very long moment there was nothing but the absolute need to have more, to have anything, to have him. His hands on her legs, holding her, was in itself a kind of torture.

Bulma lifted her hips, writhing in his grasp, the opening to her body clenching in empty need. When she opened her eyes to look at the man sitting back on his heels between her legs, she was once again stunned by how beautiful he was and how cruel was the expression on his face. How primal.

Vegeta’s mouth was dark pink from use, wet from the contact with her body. His hair stood up from the peak at his forehead, shining and tousled from her own hands. But his eyes scared her. The black depths that reflected the light of the room seemed to suck at her soul. He watched her with a hunger that she knew would take too much to fill. Vegeta was a visceral force, able to take her everything at any moment and yet she knew he wouldn’t. Not now. She was spread like a conquered world before him. Wanting. Needing. And she would have given so much at that moment to for him to simply rise and thrust his ready cock into her body, to take what she could not deny him.

Instead, Bulma pushed off the counter of the vanity and went around him, lowering herself to the cold floor and opening to him again. If he wouldn’t take her standing, perhaps he would come to her if she appeared docile and helpless.

_I want you to…_

Bulma moved, trying to do anything that would ease the emptiness. Vegeta pressed a hand to her stomach, pushing her down and away.

“Wait for me, pretty. I’m not done yet.”

_This is killing me._

>_>_>_

Bulma tried to stay still, the Prince could not, would not, deny her for much longer. His hand pressed down on her abdomen and the pressure felt like torture. He was so close. His hands so close to the place where if he touched her again it would give her what she needed; his erect cock could force its way into her and she wouldn’t resist. 

_Please, take me Prince, I am open, I am ready… I want you…_

But his hand pressing on her stomach held her still. Bulma put her own hand on his wrist and tried to push his hand back down her belly to the place that screamed for his touch. Vegeta resisted, knowing she had no chance of making him do anything. 

>_>_>_

 _Weak, willful little Woman_.

His penis pulsed, painfully almost. It was becoming a problem

_Her mouth…_

Vegeta shifted his body until he was above Bulma, his very erect penis right over her face, his knees pressed into the hard surface that didn’t suit this mood at all. This was not exactly his plan, but the best laid plans often go wrong. And this didn’t feel exactly wrong. Vegeta crawled forward, his body over Bulma, knees on either side of her. The thick erection he had been trying to keep away from her presented itself to her mouth at the same time that Vegeta licked her slit with the entire length of his strong, nimble tongue.

>_>_>_

Bulma stopped the scream that wanted to come out her mouth as the Saiyan Prince thrust his tongue into her and sucked at the same time. The tip of his penis touched her lips, leaving Bulma with the taste of salt and desire on her mouth. She opened her mouth and let the thick, warm length of the Prince slide into her, using her tongue to curl around and taste him. She put her arms around his middle and loved the feeling of his hair against her thighs.

_I must control myself.._

_Good luck_.

 _You have no idea what I intend to do to you_.

 Vegeta buried his face in the Woman’s scented triangle, licking at her, giving her pleasure. She sucked with enthusiasm and a warm, wet mouth. He was so close to release.

_No. Not yet. Ah… stop!_

Vegeta pulled his dick out of Bulma’s mouth and twisted his body around so that he was facing her. Her legs were open, the dark pink and wet hole open to his touch. He breathed in deeply, finding the control that he wanted, barely, and stuck two fingers in his mouth, wetting them. 

Vegeta put his other hand back on the lower part of Bulma’s belly and pressed down. Inside her body something clenched and she made a noise of need. The Prince touched her wet hole with his slick fingers and slowly pushed them inside her body, his left hand pushing in on top of her abdomen. He could feel the stretch of her vagina from the outside and moved his fingers inside her, made her cry out. She was wet. She was scented.

_And she is at my mercy._

Vegeta used his strength to focus on the two fingers that were buried inside the Woman. He leaned over, sealed his pink lips over her swollen clit and sucked on her. As soon as she cried out, Vegeta began to pump his hand into her willing cunt, the ends of his fingers touching the mouth of her womb.

He was not gentle. Saiyan strength surged into his arm and he gave it to her with a punishing power. Bulma bowed her body up of the bed, her legs shaking and her mouth open in a soundless scream. 

Vegeta licked, sucked and pleasured her with his tongue while he abused her pussy relentlessly. And Bulma, her hands in his hair again, loved it.

>_>_>_

_Give me more, give me everything...My Prince.._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like pain mixed with pleasure...you don't know where you body can take trust some one else to take you higher than you can imagine. One to feel. One to move. Both to fly. Try to breathe.

Bulma arched her back, the better to take the fingers that were moving inside her. She had never felt anything like this in her life and she wanted it, all of it. Vegeta sealed his lips to the center of her being, owning her pleasure and giving it to her without asking anything in return. 

_He is going to take more than this. I want him to…_

Her mouth opened and she wanted to make some kind of plea but no sound came out. She wanted the Prince’s cock back in her mouth, she wanted any part of him to touch, but he was denying her that.

Bulma reached out, trying to find a part of the man. But he had moved away.

Mostly.

Only his tail was within her reach. It snapped back and forth over his back, like a restless snake. She couldn’t help herself, Bulma grabbed it. The moment she grasped it, Vegeta went statue still. His tongue curled back into his mouth and the fingers he had inside her stopped their movement. He drew in a breath; the sound shaky and high pitched.

_He’s afraid… of me._

Bulma pushed her hips up again, the fact that he had stopped licking her was insupportable; she needed him to keep doing that. She needed those strong fingers to keep stretching her, opening her, fucking her. With a little thought and a lot of courage, Bulma pulled the furry length of Vegeta’s tail to her mouth. 

“What?” he said, his raspy voice quavering slightly.

But he did not move to pull away. Bulma drew the end of his tail to her mouth and made a ring around it with her tongue.

Vegeta tensed for a moment, all the muscles in his body pulling tight and then he let out a sound that made Bulma smile, a loud purring sort of sound. He lowered his head and she felt the touch of his tongue again. 

Bulma knew that his tail was very vulnerable and sensitive (however strong it might be) but not how much she could bend him to her will without causing pain. So, she was gentle. The fact that never in her life had she ever thought about trying to orally pleasure a furry appendage didn’t bother her if it was pleasure for Vegeta.

The fur was smooth and incredibly soft, rather like a mink or a sable from her planet. There was a scent, hormonal and male and just that made her want it in her mouth more; not to mind the sound he made at the caress of her tongue.

If Bulma had felt invaded before, it was like nothing that she felt now. Vegeta seemed like a man possessed, his goal was to make her question the very meaning of consent. His large, strong hands moved around and inside her like an enemy army. Stretching, pounding, then going soft to give her a false sense of security. His mouth was the same, the assault relentless but feinting like a spy in the night.

Bulma tried to move so that her clit would remain directly under the very talented movement of Vegeta’s tongue, but he shied away as soon as her insides started to clench with the promise of climax and she finally bit down on his tail in frustrated, mindless, need.

>_>_>_

“Fuck!” Vegeta cried, his voice harsh and terrible.

He jerked his entire body back, up and away from the Woman, landing in a crouch that usually meant instant death to people that saw him do it. His right hand, still hot and covered in her honey was clenched, starting to glow golden. The other held his injured tail close to his chest in a way that signified how much he had disliked what Bulma had just done.

What met his eyes was not the usual picture of someone who had just caused him pain and therefore needed killing. Instead, Vegeta was looking at a naked human female, legs akimbo, dark pink and wet and open lying on the floor near a vanity table in a bathroom on Earth. 

The ki ball died in his hand. He swallowed the curses that had risen in his throat and pushed his tail back behind him. The unruly thing swiped the air in a motion that reflected his own anger at having it hurt. Or the desire to return to her mouth. Before the biting, that felt amazing. The Prince couldn't decide.

 Bulma was flushed and small and didn’t look at all like she had actually meant to hurt him, but Vegeta wasn’t exactly in the gentlest mood at that moment. When she half sat up and started to stammer an apology, he cut her words short with a violent swipe of his hand. 

“Do. Not. EVER. Do. That. Again.”

Bulma moved to cover herself, looking very much like she regretted being in such a position and had suddenly remembered that the man in front of her was a ruthless, unrepentant killer. 

_Oh, no you don’t. Bitch, that hurt._

>_>_>_

Bulma had ruined the moment and for the first time since she had let herself get caught up in this mess she was really afraid. Goku had had a tail as a child and she knew that the thing was very sensitive to a Saiyan. She hadn’t been thinking. It occurred to her all at once how much she was at the mercy of the now angry man in the room with her and that she would also have no defense if he were to take some sort of revenge. She moved to cover her breasts and sit up but before she could do much more than draw her legs closed and try to bring her arms up Vegeta flashed. His speed was faster than her human eyes could follow so it looked as though he vanished from his stance across the room and simply re-appeared in front of her; glowing a light yellow, the tips of his hair alternating from black to bright blonde.

_I’m going to die, naked, wet and in my own bathroom. Horney. Fuck, I used to have dignity._

Instead of taking her by the throat as she half way expected, Vegeta picked her up and holding her in both his arms, flashed again.

Breathless, Bulma found herself in her bedroom. She was tucked against Vegeta’s broad chest at the foot of her bed. She had no more time than it took to register that fact than she was unceremoniously dumped on the purple comforter.

“What the fuc-“ she started but the words were cut short when her legs were pulled apart again and two fingers were back inside her.

It was exactly something along the lines of the opposite of what she had expected but also precisely what she wanted. His face, that harshly gorgeous face, was set intently in what she would call his characteristic look of intensity. His skin still gleamed with the water from both the bath and floor, but there was nothing about the man that lowered his dignity. 

 The Prince stood, legs planted at shoulder width, his tail tightly wrapped around his waist and holding the most impressive erection she had ever seen against his tight, ripped stomach. Arms and legs muscled to the point that one would think he had been drawn by Di Vinci. Chest and torso so sculpted as to be unreal. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. Black eyes focused on her. Bulma was owned.

_Gods…YES…_

>_>_>_

There were two options that Vegeta swiftly narrowed down to one. She had just caused him pain and that was usually the very last thing that anyone who encountered him ever did. But she had done it unknowingly and he had to admit that killing her would rather ruin the plans he had in his mind for the rest of the evening. That option being out, there was only one left. She would have to pay for what she had just done.

He had been on the verge of giving in and letting her have the release she obviously needed.

Now, no.

He threw her down on her own bed and yanked her white legs open. The pink sheath between them, so recently the location of his attentions, was wet and welcoming still. Vegeta pointed the first two fingers of his right hand and pressed them very aggressively back into her, not waiting for her to grow accustomed to his presence. He pulled back, withdrawing almost all the way and then went back into her, hard.

Bulma turned her head into the plush of the covering of her bed, making him have to pay attention to hear the muffled cry that came out of her. He held her by one thigh and commenced a rhythm that punished that soft part of her, the thick muscle of his forearm flexing but never tiring.

_Take it…_

She writhed, not trying to escape but in seeming need. Her scent rose, as intoxicating as the way that she lifted her hips to meet his hand. Vegeta let go of her thigh and pressed his thumb against her swollen clitoris, making a little circle over the nub.

 _One more, I think_ …

Vegeta withdrew his hand but before she could react he was back, this time with three fingers, spreading her open and watching the pink flesh stretch to take him. Bulma covered her face with her hands. She was talking; or seemed to be but without words. She was tight and he knew it was almost too much. Vegeta was not small by any means but the width of his battle hardened fingers was greater than that of his cock and the ridges of his knuckles going into her pulled the tender flesh thin. Still, she did not pull back or try to stop him.

_She wants to be stretched wider._

The fact that the Woman opened her legs even more and reached down to wrap her small hand around Vegeta’s wrist was evidence enough of that. He watched, his cock straining against the restraint of his very prehensile tail, as she pulled him deeper, closer. When he curled his fingers inside her body, Bulma’s mouth opened and though no sound came out of her, she pulled herself farther down in a wordless attempt to draw him into her.

“Vegeta. Ah Yes,” she breathed brokenly, “Please…”

The Prince watched her face, flushed and nearly desperate to have him do something he honestly didn’t think she could take.

_I’m going to hurt her. And she wants it. Gods, help me…_

>_>_>_

_He’s going to split me in half!_

Bulma didn’t care, this was too insanely thrilling for her self-preservation instincts to stop her from using her meager strength to try and pull Vegeta deeper, force him to do what she wanted. The orgasm that had been so close was further away now but a new pleasure took it’s place.

A very new desire to be opened.

Vegeta hesitated, the three tapered fingers inside her curled deliciously, running over the place where the fabled g-spot was quite obviously a reality. His other hand gently played over her clitoris, keeping the place full and tender; the difference in the touches was too great and her body a mass of fire and need that only knew how to want.

 _And I want more…of him_.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, his dark eyes narrowed. He nodded once and jerked his head up in a gesture that indicated he wanted her to move backward. Using her elbows, Bulma pulled herself higher on her bed and Vegeta followed, not breaking contact. Once she was lying on the top of the bed, her head cushioned, he settled himself between her legs, both of his folded back at the knee. She could watch him from this angle and it was a most alluring sight.

Experimentally, the Prince tucked his smallest finger into the palm of his hand and then his thumb. Bulma used her own fingers to pull herself open, the plump little lips of her vagina blooming like a strange flower. As she watched him, Vegeta wound his tail around his cock again, running the taunt coils up and down the shaft. The tip shone in the light, glistening from his own salty droplets. She wanted to taste him again.

_Soon enough…_

She felt it when he decided to try and give her what she wanted. The flex and ripple that went down his arm when it tensed was only the slightest bit of his great strength and yet she felt as though he were made of metal. His hand pressed against and into her with enough force to break her if she hadn’t been so incredibly wet. She nearly screamed when the widest part of his hand started to enter her body, but he stopped there and took a long time easing her, letting her get used to him before she felt him push forward again. With part of her mind Bulma watched the Prince, head bent intently over her, his intensity a taste in the air.

_God damn, he is fucking beautiful…_

_This destroyer of worlds is destroying me…_

>_>_>_

Vegeta couldn’t believe the sight that was laid out in front of him, the Woman split open like a ripe peach with his big hand sliding inexorably inside of her. He pushed harder, wanting to feel her taking him, his tongue pressed between his sharp teeth. The moment when the thick muscle at the base of his thumb made it past the barrier of her opening gave him a frightening jolt and he nearly spent himself right then. Would have done if it wasn’t for the shattering shriek that came out of her mouth.

“GOD’S YESSSS!”

Somewhere between a scream and a hiss, the words hit him like a punch to the stomach. The coils of his tail tightened, as did every muscle in his entire body. Vegeta tried to breathe as the extraordinary feeling of having his hand swallowed by the virginal hole stole his sanity. Bulma let go of the petals she had held away for him and wrapped both hands around his wrist, both holding him still and preventing him from pulling back. She bowed up, the movement making her so tight inside that she was crushing his hand. He couldn’t imagine what it felt like for her but for him it was so tantalizing to think of what that would feel like around his cock that a second climax nearly took him.

_Provided she is still alive after this,I am going to fill her: again and again._

“Woman?” he murmured, lifting his eyes to look at her face.

>_>_>_

The wrist in her hands was bigger around than anything that had ever come close to entering her and the hand attached to it that much bigger. She was stretched inside to the ripping point but the amazing makeup of her female body didn’t tear open, to her disbelief. The pain was exquisite in itself, making her want to stop it and never stop it at the same time. She curled up slightly and met the eyes of the man giving her this hellishly wonderful torture.

Vegeta spoke to her but she was beyond hearing him or trying to understand what he had said, but she recognized the concern on his face. Instead of attempting to answer whatever he had said she relaxed her body one section at a time until she was lying back against the pillows again. The lines between Vegeta’s eyes smoothed out and he actually smiled, the sharp canines showing in a way that was somehow not terrifying but incredibly sexy.

_Can he be enjoying this as much as I am?_

He moved. The great muscles of his strong right arm rippled under the tanned skin, rotating his whole arm, turning his hand inside her. It was too much, too painful and she cried out again, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Vegeta stopped again, his eyes narrowing but only for a moment. He softly teased her clit, making her jump and convulse, then turned his hand the other way.

>_>_>_

_Woman, you asked for this…_

He could see that she was in pain, the two glittering tears in her blue eyes had given him a moments pause but the rush of wetness that flooded her and the way she involuntarily pushed against him made him think that she was not yet ready to admit she couldn’t take it. His hand, sliding against the smoothly textured walls of her vagina as he turned it felt like it would rip right through her, and he loved it.

_She loves it. Masochist!_

Slowly, very slowly, he pushed even further inside, filling her until he felt the tiny mouth of her womb with his finger tips. He stroked it delicately, gentle with that most tender place. Meanwhile, he paid special attention to her clit, making the small circles that got him the greatest response. He stopped the motion of his tail, so aroused that he knew he would come if he didn’t and he did not want this to end just yet.

Instead he released his erection and moved slightly to let it rub against the underside of his wrist, the wet tip just touching her tight little ass. He wanted very much to take her there, so much so that the passing thought brought him a spasm of pain and almost drove him to do exactly that.

_To be in both places at once…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something that I was reluctant to write down but I had to be true to myself and my way of thinking. Sorry for how long it took, my laptop died and my time to write was very limited but to those you BEAUTIFUL people who read it and left me those outstandingly encouraging comments, to everyone who bothered to read this and give me a kudo... THANK YOU SO MUCH FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. This is my first work and it means more than the world to me that you read and actually liked it. I know that my pleasure doesn't appeal to everyone but just letting me get away with the excessive use of the three dots gives me a reason to keep writing. Got a new laptop and a new reason to continue. I love you (and Vegebul, obviously) more than I can say. Thank you! Thank you! Love you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point, just go with it. You'll get Vegeta tied to a bed. Best fantasy ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the fantastic comments and the support. I really can't tell you how much it means to me. Reading those leaves me with a goofy grin on my face all day. Love you.

Chapter 5

Vegeta did not give into the desire, instead filing the idea away for later consideration. He turned his hand inside Bulma and leaned over her to let his tongue take over for his left hand. The Woman was shaking, from the strain, the pain or the need for release he did not know but the fine shiver that ran through her was interesting. She pushed her hips off the bed, her hands in his thick hair trying to hold him against her.

_I’ll give you what you need…_

Vegeta opened his mouth and kissed Bulma, that talented tongue flickering up and down over the little nub with inhuman speed. When his hand was positioned palm up, he curled his fingers just enough to make Bulma call out his name and turn her hands into demanding fists in his hair.

“Come for me.”

No sooner had he whispered the words against her than Bulma arched completely off the bed, hips pumping, riding his fist. Vegeta kept his mouth sealed to her body. He knew the exact moment when the orgasm shattered her, the tight sheath around his hand clamped down like a vice and then rippled with spasms of pleasure. She was crying; his name, to the gods, the word ‘yes’ repeated over and over in the climax that went on and on. 

Vegeta’s left hand had Bulma by the hips, holding her to his lips because he knew an orgasm that lasts too long is a torture all its own. He licked her like a cat with a bowl of cream; quick flicks that kept her coming, kept the clenching power of her body crushing his hand, kept her calling his name.

Vegeta pulled his hand back just a little with every contraction, letting her own orgasm force him out of her, until at last he slid his wet hand free and soothed her with long, gentle, sensuous licks of his tongue. 

Vegeta let her back down on the bed, using his hands to massage her quivering thighs while he kissed the pain away from the hot, little hole. She tightened when he dipped his tongue into her and Vegeta took a moment to look up at her.

Bulma had her face covered, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. No tears streaked the part of her piquant face that he could see and she was as limp as could be but her skin was flushed and there were still tiny tremors running through her body. Experimentally, Vegeta ran a fingertip over her clit, ducking down again to run his tongue around the dark pink opening he had used so thoroughly. To his delight, she jumped against his mouth.

_Interesting…_

>_>_>_

The sensation of Vegeta’s soft tongue licking the abused flesh just inside her swollen vagina was enough to make Bulma nearly fly off the bed. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get away from him or make him do it again.

_It hurts. But his mouth…ah, his mouth._

He did not see fit to give her a choice in the matter, however. Bulma bit down on the palm of the hand covering her mouth. He was exactly as gentle now as he had not been only minutes before. The caressing way he ran his fingers over her sensitized slit was nothing like the aggressive way he had just brought her to what was the most earth-shattering climax of her life. The gentle tongue moved around the boundaries and then into the fevered place he had stretched beyond its limits; it was the polar opposite of the warrior fist it replaced.

She needed a minute to breathe, to find herself again and rest.

“Vegeta. Stop,” Bulma said this as clearly as her choked throat would let her but she knew he would still hear it.

“No,” came the soft reply and she felt the way his lips moved when he said it. 

“Please.”

“No.”

_I can’t…_

>_>_>_

_I know what I’m doing, Woman. Just let me. I want the taste of your honey back._

Vegeta knew Bulma didn’t have the strength or the energy to stop him right then. She put up almost no resistance at all when he ran his tongue back up the warm slit and around the bundle of nerves near the top. He could feel it building in her even if she couldn’t. 

Bulma did make a token attempt to push him away, but that turned into holding him closer and then she was coming into his open mouth.  But the second release was different. This time it was like the gentle wash of waves over her, a release of the rest of the tension stored in her body. Exactly what the Woman had not known she needed.

When she finally stopped shuddering, Vegeta released her with the lightest kiss on the inside of her thigh.

But he had zero intention of leaving her alone. The thick, hard cock currently being held against him by his tail had earned some tending to. 

The Saiyan stood up and a wicked grin made him look like the evil Prince he was born to be. 

He took a moment to appreciate Bulma, she looked quite fetching laid out on the purple comforter.

_Blue and purple do go together well. And that shade of pink…_

He felt her curious gaze on his back when the Prince turned to walk back into the bathroom, to the discarded clothing he’d dropped. The smile widened when he stopped in the doorway and lifted his arms to vainly flex the muscles of his back and give the Woman, who he knew was still looking at him, a grand view of his excellent backside. He turned, smirked at her over his shoulder and was rewarded by a tinkle of rather breathless and reluctant laughter.

Satisfied, Vegeta picked up his ruined underclothes and pulled a small object out of the lining. This in hand, he went back and sat next to Bulma.

He demanded, “Open your mouth.” 

Bulma did not comply right away, she was watching the way his glossy tail ran up and down the length of the erection sitting in his lap. Deliberately, Vegeta stroked the underside of himself, making his cock stand up at an angle, pointing directly at her mouth. 

When she didn’t answer, Vegeta took her chin in his hand and turned her, making her meet his eyes and this time the look in his black eyes was compassionate, “Are you very badly hurt?”

_I think I should have been more gentle, she is so small. But that was so… And she came so hard. Fuck! I don’t understand humans. Or this one, at least. I think I want to get inside her…mind._

Bulma did not want to look at herself but given the extreme soreness and the way her insides burned; the answer was yes. She blushed and stayed silent.

Vegeta simply pushed her backward and leaned over to look for himself. He had not a single qualm about it nor did he think that it might bother her to be examined in this way, so he was surprised when she flipped over and yanked the blanket over her lower half.

“After what we just did, now you are shy?” he asked, incredulously. 

_Seriously?!_

>_>_>_

Bulma felt her face heat up. 

“I’m not a piece of meat and you’re not a doctor!” she snapped, pushing his hand away when Vegeta made to pull the blanket back. 

“Woman, you are irrational! I wouldn’t be seeing anything I haven’t already seen. _Very_ close up!” he exclaimed, “As for you being a piece of meat-“

Bulma slapped him across the face.

_I knew that one was coming as soon as I said it… and ow, his face is just as hard as the rest of him._

Vegeta laughed, low and rasping, but didn’t so much as cover the offended cheek to indicate that she had hurt him at all.

“Thank you,” he said succinctly. Bulma gasped at the dark look on his face a moment before she was lifted off the bed and laid out across Vegeta’s lap. He held her down with one powerful hand on the back of her neck and delivered a resounding slap to her bottom with the other.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” she screamed, discomfort forgotten as she fought to get loose. She felt the heat of the slap spread across her ass cheek, followed by his hand rubbing over the place, soothing it just as he had done to other parts of her after hurting them.

_You are enjoying this! Sadist!_

“Let go of me, you unbelievable ASSHOLE!!” Bulma shouted, tearing at the hand on her neck, to absolutely no avail. 

“You have a very fine ass, Woman,” Vegeta remarked and then spanked her again on the other side. Hard. 

Bulma went still. She could not free herself by force, he was far too strong. She tried to find something to bite, but his tail was wrapped around his slender waist again, protecting both itself and the rock-hard dick pressed into her side but still out of reach. The only way she could move was to bring her legs up under her body and try to lift herself that way.

He let her do this. “Good girl,” he said, approvingly, smoothing his hand over her now red backside very tenderly. 

That was not what she had intended; Bulma felt fury rise in her stomach like she’d swallowed fire. But she stopped struggling when a gentle hand cupped her abused pubis and his thumb ran over the blue hair in a whisper of a caress.

“You very warm and swollen here,” Vegeta observed quietly, “This will take too long to heal. Open your mouth.”

_I DARE him to try and stick-_

Her internal dialogue was cut short by the fact that when she did open her mouth to say what she was thinking, Vegeta popped a small bean into it.

“Chew it, Bulma,” he said patiently, still stroking her bottom as though she were an angry cat.

Bulma recognized the Senzu and though she would not admit it, ever, was grateful. She chewed and swallowed the little thing; it was very dry and bitter but the magic was instantaneous. 

Her body seemed to heat up all at once and all the damaged places tingled maddeningly for about three breaths. Then she felt a glorious sense of well-being wash through her and her body was restored to its healthiest condition by the magic that nobody understood at all. But it was very convenient 

“Better?” the Prince asked,” If I let you go are you going to bite off something I value?”

_He’s laughing at me!_

“Let me go and I’ll…oh…”

Bulma sighed and gave up. He was touching her again and her freshly healed body responded to it like a slave to its master. 

_Master, is it?_

Bulma rose in front of the Prince the moment he let go of her neck. He gleamed slightly  in the dimmed light of her bedroom, the fresh wounds still on his body sharp in contrast to the otherwise smooth skin. Looking closer, Bulma could see that they had already healed enough that there was no more bleeding and no need for the stitches that she had planned. 

_Good._

The Woman pushed him backward, hands on his wide chest. Vegeta looked amused but wary, allowing his body to fall back against the headboard but he did not unwrap his tail and kept his arms in front of him to ward her off if she chose to attack him in retaliation for the spanking he had just given her.

Instead, she took both his wrists and opened his arms, moving them away from his chest. He watched her and let her make him move but when she climbed over him and to the side, pressing his wrist to the bed post, he tensed. Uncertain.

“Vegeta.”

Her voice was soft; imploring. The blue eyes held no malice, only a great measure of mischief. He was curious, making no effort to stop Bulma when she wound the sash that held the bed curtains around his wrist and tied it. She let him be for a moment, seeing his arm tense to assure himself that the flimsy restraint was not a threat. He smiled at her and she crawled over to the other side, tied his other wrist. 

“You can free yourself anytime you want, oh mighty Prince. The challenge is _not to._ ”

Bulma sat back and took in the breath-taking sight of this gorgeous alien man seemingly trussed and helpless, gloriously naked on her bed. 

_Best day ever!_

Vegeta frowned slightly so Bulma quashed the urge to laugh at that thought. He turned his head to look at the bond on his right wrist and pulled against it, but not hard enough to break it. It was just his nature and he knew he could demolish the entire building without expending any energy, really. 

Bulma admired his profile while it was offered. His features were sharp, almost unnaturally so but it suited him. The only softness in his face was the fullness of his bottom lip. A fresh rush of wetness gave Bulma a start and the scent attracted Vegeta’s attention. His eyes glittered when he turned his head back toward her, inhaling deeply.

Bulma threw her leg over his thighs and sat down on the thick muscle there. She reached out and touched his tail, making Vegeta stiffen and pull back, baring his teeth, hissing.

“Gently,” she murmured and took the end in her hands, pulling the sleek thing away from his waist. It resisted her but slowly gave way. She was careful, running her hands over the fur, admiring the softness and was rewarded by a sighing sound of contentment from the Prince.

His tail moved in her hands, the tip coming to her to rub against her breasts, flitting in between them. The soreness was gone but not the memory of how he had suckled her earlier, which was incredibly erotic.

It gave her an idea.

>_>_>_

_This is possibly the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in._

The Woman sitting on his lap, blue hair messed fetchingly, petting his tail leaned toward him and pressed her little red mouth to his chest. Vegeta’s breath hitched. She opened her lips and drew the small nipple in between them. That was a new feeling and one that he very much wanted repeated. 

Without the use of his hands, Vegeta used his ever useful tail to wrap around her neck, encouraging her to do that again. She did, trailing juicy little kisses across the width of his chest to the opposite nipple. It was the same treatment that he had given her, but very gentle. She didn’t nip and bite; she licked and kissed. Those industrious hands ran up and down the sides of his torso, exploring the ridges of musculature. Vegeta squirmed uncomfortably, unused to this kind of feeling. Rough handling, he could deal with, this tickling: he didn’t know exactly how to respond.

Vegeta flexed the muscles of his lower abdomen to bring the tip of his cock, painful now, to rub against her skin.

_Just a little lower, Bulma…_

But she was teasing. She rubbed her tits over his erection, giving absolutely no relief to the long-suffering organ or to its owner. He would have grabbed a fistful of her hair and made her take him, but Vegeta was (at least in theory) playing by her rules. 

He couldn’t help the feral groan that erupted from deep in his chest, brought out by the path of her kisses climbing up his throat instead of down his stomach. That sound was repeated, much louder and angrier, when she slid herself up his legs and trapped his throbbing shaft between his belly and her own, the open lips of her vagina wrapping partially around it.

Vegeta strained at the silk cords that held him, bending the posts of the bed, growling. Bulma lifted up, so that she was barely touching him and put her hands on the sides of his face, making him look at her.

“Be still, Prince. Be good.”

Vegeta started to yell something fairly atrocious at her but Bulma covered his lips with hers and stole his breath away. The bed frame gave an ominous creak which reminded Vegeta to try to relax his bulging arms. In return, Bulma settled back down, dragging her clit along the shaft. 

_She’s going to pay for this…_

>_>_>_

 

Kissing Vegeta was rather like fighting him. Even without his hands, he strove for control. Dominance. 

_I’m going to have to do something about his tail._

The appendage in question was diligently trying to ruin her game. Sensitive to pain though it was, Vegeta’s tail was immensely strong. Currently, it had wrapped itself around her waist and was attempting to lift her. She deftly hooked her feet back under Vegeta’s legs, anchoring herself; then she went back to kissing him. But she did allow him to lift her just enough so that he could feel the friction of her body on his cock. His tail, like the rest of him, seemed immune to fatigue, able, apparently, to move her up and down in this way forever.

Bulma explored the terrain of his body with her hands, that of his mouth with her tongue. When his arms tensed again, she simply laid her hands on the hills of his biceps and pressed down until he gave in. It was a thrilling conquest.

Bulma pulled back, gasping for air, the coil of his tail made it hard to breathe. When she freed his mouth, Vegeta’s head fell forward limply. He was panting, hanging forward by his arms, hands fisted and still. His tail fell from around the Woman to lay curled on the bed at his side.

Bulma looked at Vegeta. The spectacular body gleamed with sweat, shining like he had been brushed with liquid caramel. His head hung so low that his chin nearly touched his chest, which heaved in the way it would if he’d been running. Or fighting. Somehow, in a twisted way, this was (no matter how much she hated herself for knowing it was the truth) the sexiest thing she had ever seen. Ever. A bound Prince; her slave now.

_Gods, I want that…_

>_>_>_

Vegeta took fast, shallow breaths, keeping his ki in check. He wanted to let it out, to explode with the fury his Saiyan blood demanded, to conquer, destroy and take. 

There was a very fine thread of control between his current state and that outcome. Mostly, it consisted of two finely woven ribbons of silk. And his growing regard for the Woman. 

_I need…_

When he felt it was safe to speak, Vegeta swallowed and raised his gaze from the straining member between his legs to look at the woman through the forward fall of his own thick, black forelock. He was in pain and it showed, finally, in the cast of his features and the large, dark eyes that lifted to implore the naked human straddling his outstretched legs.

“Bulma. Please.”

_Please…_

The softly spoken, honest words had exactly the very desired effect. It took every ounce of will power Vegeta possessed not to rip his arms free and take her but he was exceptionally glad he hadn’t given in when Bulma rose high on her knees before him and moved so close that her body came flush with his.

“Look at me, my Prince,” she said into the wealth of his hair. 

When he lifted his head, she took his face in her hands.

“Feel me.”

She reached down between them and took hold of him. Once, she ran her hand up and down his cock, mixing his own natural lubrication with hers to wet him. Vegeta leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, watching. Their bodies were so close, but he could see his own tip and the top of the blue triangle he needed so badly to invade.

She wedged the dark pink tip of his cock against the ready, ripe entrance to her body and let him go. Vegeta started to move but froze in shocked pleasure the moment Bulma began her very measured decent. By tortured increments she took him, letting him feel every delicious millimeter of the heated sheath that swallowed him whole.

It was more than he could take. Quite without his total consent, his tail whipped up and fastened around her hips. Using his great strength, he made her move, back and forth along the curved ridge of his full and beautiful cock, far faster than she could have done on her own. 

Bulma slammed her hands onto his shoulders and held on, lifting her head. Vegeta moved her up again, high enough above him that he could bury his face in the generous softness of her chest. He breathed her scent, his tongue out to taste her. In that position, he could use the tension of the silk straps to lift his hips, adding to the back and forth motion he gave her with his tail. 

_FUCK YES!!_

 Bulma was as tight and wet as he had imagined when he’d stretched her before. His dick reached into to the very depths of her, pushing into the rounded barrier at the back  and making her cry out. She moved her legs from their position bent backward and tucked under his, forward, and wrapped them around him. 

She used her grip on his shoulders to ride him and though for all the world he would have liked to pound himself into her, to relieve the pain of having held back for so very long, he slowed down.

When Vegeta stopped thrusting upward into her, Bulma took over. She drew him closer and moved carefully, holding on to him to steady herself. He was very large, bigger than she could lift to get to the very end of him. To compensate, she rose as far as her legs would allow and then moved in circles.

Vegeta pulled against the straps again, harder this time and pressed his face into her chest, taking a nipple onto his mouth and pulling deeply. He caught the rhythm she created and used his tail to help her. 

The circles she made with her hips drove him wild. He’d been waiting for so long, it seemed. Her heat. Her soft, rippling inside; so wet and smooth squeezed him in the most intoxicating way. He loved her breasts against his face, the smallness of her waist in the ring of his tail and the feeling of her holding on to him as she moved. 

Vegeta was purring, unable and unwilling to keep a dignified silence. The tension in his body had grown to the breaking point, he was both wild from trying to control himself and from the need for _more._

Making love to a human was difficult for Saiyans. Their inherent strength would easily hurt or kill such a delicate creature if it were ever unleashed. Part of this torture for Vegeta was not knowing exactly how much of his true drive this tiny, blue haired woman could take.  Though she had proven herself to be far more sturdy than he would have imagined.

Her head tilted back and she dug her nails into the skin on the sides of his neck. She was calling out, close to her own release. The way she took Vegeta into herself, with such joy and wanton desire finally drove the Prince past the point of what he was willing to take. Of what he could take.

_This far. No further!_

Vegeta’s aura exploded out around him on golden flaming light. He flexed his arms and tore the wooden bed posts right out of the frame at almost the exact same moment that he incinerated the silken cords that tied him. It was his infinite and total control over his own power that saved Bulma from being harmed by the raw energy that poured out of his body.

The gold fire engulfed her with warmth that didn’t burn and shot sanity stealing pleasure through her every cell. His tail lifted her off of him and flung her backward but he didn’t give her time to process the change of position. 

Bulma had barely landed on the rumpled purple comforter before Vegeta was over her. He growled fiercely, his eyes a black hell, lips pulled back in a snarl. He scooped her legs up and back, hooking her knees over his elbows. 

The Prince bent his head over the Woman, holding himself above her on his strong, straight arms. He flexed his hips, bringing his cock to the opening that seemed to be made for it.

“Say yes.”

Vegeta stayed very still, waiting. He shook with the effort, barely able to leash the Saiyan inside him. Bulma, eyes wide with shock and fear and equal ardor, lifted her head, kissed him and said, “Yes.”

_Mine._

>_>_>_

Bulma looked into the dark gaze of the man on top of her. It was his stillness that gave her the courage to utter the word that gave him permission to take her in whatever way his savage nature was driving him to. That and the fact that he actually shook with the effort. 

This warrior, a Saiyan. A crown prince. He glowed with unearthly fire, his eyes glittered with strange aqua shards. His tail arched up behind him, whipping back and forth the way a tiger’s might right before it pounced. 

Everything about him was both terrible and entrancing and she _wanted_ him.

If he gave her pain, she wanted it. It would come with the most pleasure she had ever felt in her life, made all the greater by the contrast. A flash memory of the way he’d looked, bound and pleading came back to her and she kissed him.

_Yours._

There was no pain. She was ready for him and he was gentle. At first. Vegeta made love the way he did everything. Carefully, not a single movement wasted or done without consideration. He rocked against her until she was breathless and writhing underneath him. And he kept himself deep, buried to the root of his cock; making certain that he kept contact with her clit. Even the pressure of his weight on her was erotic, pushing her down into the mattress but not hurting her.

Vegeta backed off when Bulma was so close to climax that she almost cried when he stopped. She knew he hadn’t finished and could not understand why he’d left her so empty until she felt the pressure of a rounded tip rub against her ass.

“Vegeta?”

He touched her and ran his fingers up and down, drawing the wetness from her pussy lower. His other hand kept making tiny, maddening circles over her nub. 

“I want to fuck you,” he said with a rasping voice that was sexy all by itself. He stuck his for finger in his mouth, pink tongue curving around it. He pressed it to the very tight, little hole he’d been thinking about since almost the beginning of their adventures.

“I want to fuck you, here.”

Vegeta pushed past the furled ring of resistance and smiled when Bulma cried out, her legs closing in defense.

_I told you I’d make you pay. And you did say yes…_

Vegeta wrapped his tail around one of her thighs and took hold of the other one, prying her legs open without the slightest bit of effort. Bulma didn’t try to get away again, the shock of being invaded had passed and she found that she could relax if she concentrated.

Vegeta gave her time to become accustomed to him again, only moving a little until she softened. Her ass was warm and very smooth inside, making his cock jump in anticipation. Both it and he were tired of waiting. 

He looked down, he wanted to see himself go into her. Vegeta moved Bulma’s legs up, rocking her pelvis back so the angle was perfect, withdrew his finger and without hesitating pushed his cock into her pink ass.

_Holy FUCK!! This is…holy fuck…_

Nothing in his life could have prepared Vegeta for the feeling of his dick being buried in a place that hot, that small or that unbelievably tight. He fell forward, braced on one arm. Her body tried to close, squeezing him so hard that it actually hurt, causing his testicles to draw up and forcing a strangled moan out of his mouth. It was painful; pain that he wanted to keep feeling.

Bulma, when he looked up, had her hands over her face again, chest heaving in a way that gave him moment’s pause. Vegeta went still again, waiting for her. He would take no pleasure at all in forcing her against her will. Making her want it was half the battle. 

Bulma exhaled, long and slow. Vegeta felt her body relax its constriction and when she took her hands away from her face there were no tears in her eyes. Instead, she looked at him with a playfully lusty expression.

“I can’t wait to show you what this feels like. Next time it’s my turn,” she said and reached out for him.

Vegeta needed no other encouragement. He went deeper and felt another tightness inside her. It was nothing like her pussy, nothing like anything he’d ever imagined. Almost too small but that just added to how _good_ it was.

He pumped his hips, nearly came and sat up. 

_Not yet. I want to feel this. I want her to feel this._

Bulma was restless. Vegeta had pulled back, out of her arms. She didn’t understand why. 

“Please come here,” she implored, taking his hands and pulling him back to her. Vegeta allowed it, letting her draw him down and kiss him, distract him. When he moved inside her again, he was in control once more. 

Vegeta fucked with his entire body, every part of him moving in co-ordination with everything else. He kissed Bulma, tasting her mouth with his tongue, breathing her scent and drinking the mewling sounds she made against his lips. The hand he wasn’t using to hold himself up played with her soft tits and slid over the flawless skin on her side or buried itself in her hair until his kisses turned harsh. 

She opened perfectly to him, and Vegeta took her with skill and greedy pleasure. He filled her so completely that they both intentionally held back from the moment when it would end. 

_I want to fuck this woman forever._

Vegeta was stunned by that thought. Buried to the hilt in her hot, welcoming depths felt like home. He didn’t want to never have this again, to never have her again. His mind filled with all the things he would love to do to her. With her. Let her do to him. He had never wanted anyone this much or even had the desire to be with the same partner twice. Once conquered they lost any allure that they had, but Bulma…

_Is Mine._

Without actually stopping kissing her, he murmured, “Can we do this again?”

Bulma clenched around him, her arms and her inside, “Oh Gods, Yes.”

The Prince felt his power rise, the aura shining around him brightened. He moved faster, slender hips pumping like pistons into the woman under him. She was talking again, his name repeated. He gave it to her harder, lifting his body so he could make deeper, longer strokes. 

_Ah, fuck. Bulma…_

Vegeta sat up and took her hips in his hands. Holding her up and open so he could drive his cock into her. He needed to be inside her, as deeply as he could, as hard as she could take him. 

Bulma went rigid in his hands and screamed his name. Vegeta slammed against her, into her and roared as he came. The walls in her drew impossibly tight, her entire body going into paroxysms with the devastating force of an anal orgasm. To Vegeta this was so violent that he couldn’t ejaculate, his own insane climax elongated. Bulma released him just enough and Vegeta cried out with the pleasure of it. His cock contracted; pulsed with a surge that finally sent jets of his seed out of him to fill the Woman. 

Vegeta was half blind and more than half crazy long before it was over. Jolts of sensation shook him. His cock surged again and he had the outstanding experience of a sort of double orgasm. He held onto Bulma’s hips for dear life, his own still thrusting a little when the second load of thick semen was forced out of him.

He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hold himself upright any longer. Still buried in Bulma, Vegeta lowered her to the bed and collapsed on top of her. 

_I think I just died a little._

>_>_>_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too many words? Too much for you? Try This chapter and see if you want to stay with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still want to thank everyone who stuck with this work through the 20K+ words. But I feel the need to play a little differently now. So Read this if you haven't, but stop here if the wanton is all you want. I am going to try for a content a little deeper (no pun intended this time) to flesh out the story in my mind. As I've said, this is still my first fic, so... I am going to reply here because I am actually quite sky in my real life.
> 
> To BV4ever- You are kind and articulate and I am so grateful for ever comment you take the time to post. They give me the hope that I am not just putting more useless junk on the web that no one will read. Thank you.
> 
> To VegeFan-You read it and sent me feed back and that means the world to me. Sometimes I wonder if I am making a fool out of myself by writing any of this down but you keep reading it, which makes it worth it. Thank you.
> 
> To Jazzydazzy- The tail was for you, my friend (not in a gross way! You inspired it). Wish humans had them; right? My life would be just so much better.

Chapter 6

Bulma laid perfectly still, the weight of Vegeta solid and wonderful on top of her. She could feel him softening inside her, the fullness eased and she welcomed it. Never had she considered being taken in that way and it had never occurred to her that it would be so mind blowing.

_Kami H. Crikey on a rubber crutch, it was incredible…_

The skin of the solid Saiyan who covered her was smooth and warm, sweaty but soft. His thick hair was a pile of satin threads. His tail and his arms were strong and firm around her. Bulma never wanted to move again. Never wanted to move again, not without him.

Vegeta’s breathing seemed to be erratic but the movement of his chest against her made her take a breath every time he did and that was centering. He was not exactly heavy, not invasive at all; Bulma didn’t want him to get up. She wanted to feel him breathe, wanted the press of him on top of her. Even the feeling of his cock inside her going soft was a sort of pleasure.

She extended her fingers. He really had extraordinary hair. So soft and close. Her hands in it pressed his head down to her and his breath on her skin was a little bit of heaven by itself.

_Has anything ever been like this?_

>_>_>_

He couldn’t or didn’t want to move. Vegeta was content where he was, still inside the Woman, resting on top of her and she was letting him. Those nails that scratched over his scalp. That was outstanding.

The pillow of her shoulder under his face so soft. He moved, his penis inside her a remnant of their joining. Vegeta wanted to stay for another moment, but he was exhausted, and he knew she was too. Bulma did not object to the way he withdrew from her body. Vegeta did it with finesse. He kept his body pressed against her so that it didn’t make her feel like the loss of him inside her was any loss at all.

The Prince moved up to lay atop her so that her face was close enough to kiss.

Vegeta had really never tried the art of kissing in depth before. He had kissed Bulma once before this night but she did not remember it and it simply wasn’t something that Saiyans generally did during casual copulation. It was too intimate. He could see why. It was, in it’s own way, more private than the temporary sating of sexual desire.

Laying the way he was, with his face so close to hers and their bodies still twined together, he wanted her again. Vegeta turned his head, nudging hers to move into a position that would allow him access to her lips so he could kiss her.

They kissed in the slow and very gentle way that can only be done after the passion of the union has been spent. Exploring and tasting for the sake of the act itself. Though, it did deepen. Vegeta rolled a firm breast his hand, plucking at the nipple and Bulma arched up to him. The Prince was genuinely enjoying this, it was novel and he found the way she drew his tongue into her mouth so that she could suck on it very arousing. He continued his exploration down her neck and onto the tops of her tits, pulling on a pink nipple with his lips because he knew she liked it.

_I wonder what else I can convince her to suckle if I play with her enough._

Bulma ruined that with a wide yawn. The Senzu bean had healed her and generally given her back her energy but everything Vegeta had done to her had sapped it in a way that required rest to restore.

For some reason it made Vegeta laugh. He had been set and ready to stick his tongue into her. Making plans to excite her all over again and make her want him.

And she yawned.

_I think I should be offended. Maybe I should spank her again._

Looking into her eyes, big and blue and very satisfied; he changed his mind. Her mouth was still close and the Prince tilted his face to kiss her, but not to give her the ravaging he had planned. Vegeta just pressed his lips against Bulma’s, enjoying the feeling of the fullness of her pout for a long moment. Then he withdrew, moving to stand up.

“I am going to use the bathroom, get some food and something to drink and then I am going to come back, open your legs and fuck you again.” he announced, stretching his arms and back before heading to the door.

“Bring me whatever your having,” Bulma called after him, “I’m starving.”

>_>_>_

Bulma was asleep when the Prince returned from the quick, thorough wash up that he gave himself.

_Typical!_

He sighed but stopped to admire the view her position afforded him. Bulma was gloriously naked, her limbs relaxed in repose. He rather liked the way her long, dark blue lashes rested on the girlish curve of her cheek.

_Pretty. Very pretty. She’ll be even prettier when I make bend over for me._

Vegeta wrapped a towel around his waist, his tail coming up to conveniently secure it. He silently made his way to the kitchens of the Capsule Corp house and was entirely relieved to find it totally lacking in Panchi. Though he did have to undergo the weird scrutiny of Dr. Briefs favourite little black cat. Vegeta could not understand the motivation of the bizarre animal. It seemed attracted to him, always lurking and trying to convince him to pet it.

_No ones looking…_

The very proud Prince of all Saiyans took a little of his valuable time to enjoy the softness of the tiny animal and the sweet sound of its endearing purr.

“Tell anyone and I'll blast you into meow mix and say you fell in the fireplace. I doubt you'll be missed.”

Vegeta hunted around a little, dug a wash basin out of a pantry and proceeded to fill it with any and everything that appealed to him. What the Saiyan left his wake was nothing short of a crime scene (with a dish of milk hidden behind the table for the cat). He smirked, trusting that the Woman’s mother would restock the decimated kitchen as she always did when Vegeta took it into his mind to liberate enough food to keep himself from taking out anymore of Dr. Briefs precious dinosaurs.

He was thirsty. The first casualty was the rest of the milk, which was both filling and delicious. Cats aren’t stupid. The food of this planet really was first class, in his opinion. Vegeta stretched out and leaning over the side of bed, rifled through the basin he’d dropped there. He pulled a large container of Cha siu bao out, followed by another of the pork dumplings to which he was exceedingly partial. The bao were also pork and Panchi kept them on hand because Bulma was very fond of the soft white buns.

_The gods really were incredibly stupid when they chose to only put the honourable  pig on Earth. We give it nasty things like lima beans or cauliflower and it turns that crap into bacon. Amazing animal._

Vegeta pulled out a bowl of red grapes. Ever since a particularly memorable (for him anyway) night under the stars with a very inebriated Bulma, he had grown to have a weakness for the juicy drops of liquid sunlight.

He settled himself comfortably, lying on his broad back and swallowed a bao in one bite. He had recently finished quite an amount of food but as was the way of his kind, there was always room for more. His mind drifted aimlessly as he relaxed and savoured the stolen delights.

When the edge was taken off his hunger Vegeta’s attention wandered back to Bulma. The sight that caught him made him nearly choke on the mouthful of grapes he was working on. With a great deal of effort he forced the mass back up out of his constricted throat where the gasp he’d involuntarily taken  had wedged it.

Then he just stared for a long moment.

Bulma had not moved from the way he had left her. She was still on her back, legs akimbo and deliciously naked. Her cunt was as pink and delicate as he could have wished but what he could not look away from was the trickle of white fluid coming from the opening underneath that.

_My seed…_

What it was exactly about that that made Vegeta’s cock instantly swell was something he spent exactly no time trying to understand, but the effect was like a punch in the stomach. He rolled over once and came to rest perpendicular to her. The muscles of his lower abdomen clenched, his stiffening cock jumped up against his belly where his tail instinctively caught it again and coiled around the girth.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Vegeta lifted Bulma’s leg nearest his head and repositioned it out of his way. He ran a light finger around the curled hole, spreading the wetness. His own scent was strong on her, which gave him another jolt of lust. The opening tightened convulsively when he touched it, a little drizzle of semen dripping out. In sympathy a large drop of sweetly scented clear fluid beaded up on the tip of his dick, smearing onto his rock hard stomach.

_How much hotter can this fucking get?! This woman is wrecking me._

With a conscious effort he made his tail unfurl. Vegeta rested his head on his left hand and wrapped the other around himself, trying to ease the pressure with solid, powerful strokes. His tail snaked over his hip and he slid the soft fur against Bulma’s wet skin. She murmured but did not pull away from the sensuous cleansing he was giving her.

The feeling for Vegeta was enough to make him bite his bottom lip hard enough to bleed. Between the scent of the two of them mixed together, the insistent erection that his hand was doing very little to help do anything but harden further and the twisted pleasure of rubbing his tail in his own come as it leaked from the Woman he had spilled into, he was fairly writhing with intense need.

He wiped away the evidence of his intrusion, loving the act of doing it while she was so vulnerable and still. It made him wonder what else he could get away with.

>_>_>_

Bulma was dreaming. She was being tickled. It made her giggle, which made her realize that the sound was real and pulled her up from the floating tangle of images in her sleeping mind.

Something incredibly soft was between her legs. More than one something. And she was in a strange position. The distinct feeling of Vegeta’s tongue running up the length of her pussy made her eyes fly open and then her lips in a wordless cry of surprise.

Vegeta looked up from his nest between Bulma’s legs and smiled at her. What she felt was a combination of the wealth of his hair on her belly and thighs as well as the damp fur of his tail roaming around with a will of its own, flicking, coiling and rubbing various parts of her intimate anatomy.

Vegeta held her gaze, tilting his head so he could look at her and lick her clit at the same time, cheek resting on her inner thigh. It had taken patience that the Prince was not famous for possessing but he had managed to turn her on her side and prop her leg up on his hip, using the other one as a pillow.

He had been torturing himself at the same time that he brought her to readiness quite without her permission, withholding the climax that was so painfully close. Vegeta’s testicules had drawn up in preparation and he was all but weeping lubrication but did not let himself come.  What this was costing him showed in the wild, aching desire in his expression. Now that there was no need to hold back and give the careful caresses that he had been using, Vegeta growled deep in his chest and bit down on her inner thigh.

Bulma moaned, watching him, catching her tits in her hands and pulling her own nipples viciously. When he came back to her center Vegeta was not gentle. Nor was the pressure of his tail invading her.

The dexterous appendage dipped into the searing hole that Vegeta had spent the better part of the past hour playing with. Bulma was as wet as if he’d filled her with lubricant and once the fur was saturated, the Prince pointed the end of his tail and worked it into her until he was panting with the effort.

There had been ample time for the fertile mind of the creative warrior to fantasize. He knew exactly what he was going to do and he’d had enough of holding back. It was Vegeta’s way to delay his own orgasm, the waiting gave him a far more satisfying climax when he finally allowed himself to come but there was a limit. He’s already reached it once this night, the splinted bed frame, broken beyond repair was evidence of that.

 _Gonna fill you again, Bulma. See if you can take it, take me, this time._  
  


>_>_>_

Bulma wanted Vegeta to stop teasing her, no matter how good it felt. Now that she knew exactly how good he could make it, how strong he was, she had no patience. His tail forcing its way into her was erotic, alien. For one entire moment she had been freaked out that he’d been touching her, licking at her like that while she was insensible. For one entire moment she’d actually thought about pushing him off. Then he’d given her that burning look from under his dark brows, smiling savagely, canines showing. He’d entered her with something no human man ever possessed and it felt marvelous in its newness.

In her way of entertaining her own fetish Bulma attacked her nipples, sending lightening bolts down to mingle with the storm Vegeta was stirring inside her.

_He bit me. Ah, please, Prince, do that again._

Bulma made a sound of denial when Vegeta withdrew his crazy tongue and tail then lifted her leg off his hip. But her disappointment was short lived.

Vegeta took her firmly by the thighs and roughly rolled Bulma over onto her stomach.

“Up on your knees, Woman,” he ordered in the quiet, low voice that he used to command. Bulma did as she was told, glancing back to look at the prince over her shoulder.

Vegeta sat upright on his spread knees, hands resting on the corded thighs that held him so efficiently. His manhood stood out, long, curving and gleaming with moisture. She could see the rhythm of his heartbeat in it. Behind him his tail lashed, wrapping and then releasing his neck.

_I really have never seen anything that beautiful. How can a man be so hard, so powerfully made and still be that gorgeous? And he’s looking at me like he’s starving…_

Vegeta was the picture of a god, sitting there glaring at her with black, narrowed eyes. Fast breaths made his chest heave, every muscle standing out in contrast. He was carved from shadow and light under the midnight flame of his hair.

Bulma dropped her head and shoulders to the bed to lift her behind farther into the air and presented her prince with exactly what he wanted.

_A target._

“Hard, Vegeta. Hard.”

>_>_>_

It was all he needed. He spread her open with his fingers, thumbs hooked inside to stretch her again, knowing how far to push her this time. She hitched back, inviting him and let out a startled cry when he pushed a few inches of his rigid tail into the waiting hole. It wasn’t what _she_ expected and was precisely what _he_ wanted.

Vegeta let go of her and snarled at the way she closed around his tender tail, but not in fear for its safety.

_Here I come, my little peach…_

His tail was in between his own legs, an articulated curve of it strategically place so that his own sable fur rubbed against his heavy pouch and the under side of his cock. Holding Bulma firmly by the hip he guided the tip of his thick erection into the space above his tail. Once the head was inside her shaking body, he used both hands to ram himself home.

Both of them let out sounds that were guaranteed to wake every living thing in the house. Sounds that simply got louder and closer together when Vegeta rocked his hips back and plowed her again, setting a pace that a human man could never match.

He fucked her completely, his cock as deep inside her as he could get and his tail adding its girth to give her the unnatural width she so craved. Vegeta went faster, loving the feeling of his silken, soaking fur on his dick and balls as well as the ultra-tightness of her slick passage around his formidable length.

Bulma reached out and flattened her hands against the headboard of the bed and pushed back to meet him, thrust for powerful thrust. He filled her to bursting, hurting her fleshy hips with his grip and threatening to rip her apart with the violence of his taking. She put her mouth against the bed and screamed, demanding more from the man who could and would give her everything he had, taking her higher than she had ever been in her life.

Vegeta ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his forelock out of his eyes and then slapped his hand, open-palmed, onto the flushed round curve of the Woman’s ass. He liked seeing his handprint in pink on her skin like a signature.

Needing to be closer, Vegeta bent his body over the curve of hers, his arms sliding up and around her waist. His moved differently now, just as fast and just as hard but staying buried deep, the head of his cock far past the tip of his shuddering tail.

To balance himself he extended one arm beside her, holding her with the other and they moved together in a dance whose music was that of skin on skin. The smoothness of the back of her vulnerable neck called to him, making him open his mouth against it to graze it with the deadly canine teeth that were the legacy of the Oozaru.

Unbelievably, Bulma, tilted her head; extending her neck for him. Just under his tongue pulsed the thick vein that carried her life’s blood; it pounded with her heartbeat and the cries that she let out with each pounding thrust of his hips. Every pleading repetition of his name drove Vegeta closer to the precipice, just as the scent of her filled his mind with a primal need to taste her.

“Now, oh please, NOW!” she screamed, heedless of the volume of her voice or the fact that the hand she had buried his hair was ripping it out.

Bulma came around the combined circumference of the pulsing cock and saturated tail in her pussy. Her orgasm hit her so hard that she had no breath to cry out again when Vegeta bit into the very breakable skin at the junction between her neck and shoulder. She shook and quaked uncontrollably, so many parts of her body were being breached at once that it tore her reason apart.

Vegeta felt his fangs break her skin and then the heady taste of her blood run over his tongue. He could no longer think, his body was only instinct and driving need, more animal than man. This most primitive of all matings consumed him and for that moment Vegeta was truly Saiyan.

 Her precious sheath spasmed and her body seized. That and the red taste of her blood in mouth shredded the Prince and tore a climax out of him so brutal he might have killed Bulma if it hadn’t been for the small hand that she had buried in his thick hair. It was just enough to keep him from the berserker impulse to bite down and tear her apart. Her salted blood was enough, she was tight enough, her acceptance of him was enough to save her.

Vegeta withdrew his fangs and pressed his mouth over the wound a moment before the force of the orgasm slammed into him and his body tensed to find the mouth of her womb deep inside. His tail swelled, forcibly pushing the very tip of his cock forward to kiss the place in her that had opened when she came. Vegeta screamed into her neck, tremors shaking him furiously while he filled her to overflowing for the second time.

Slowly Bulma gave into the fact that she had no more strength to hold herself and Vegeta up anymore. She let herself flatten out on the bed, her very spent Prince sliding out of her in one smooth motion.

But Vegeta didn’t let himself relax down with her. He stayed on his knees, bent over Bulma, looking at the two half moons of the bite mark he’d left on the curve between delicate white shoulder and neck. The pin pricks of his canine teeth had stopped seeping blood but he could still taste it in his mouth.

_Delicious. And I am a fucking monster._

_> _>_>__

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you endlessly to everyone who left the amazingly supportive and encouraging comments for the previous chapters. I wouldn't be keep this up without you. But its awesome to know that you get off on this much as I do. Yes, I'm a little twisted but aren't we all monsters when we can get away with it. The time you took to write to is something I can't seem to find the right words to... Stopping while I'm ahead and before I embarrass myself..Love you
> 
> Thank you for the kudos, it makes my day to see them and know you enjoyed this admittedly weird piece of seemingly endless smut. Just to have them is unexpected and an honour.
> 
> The reference to a fondness for grapes is an allusion to "Tails from another day", feel free to ignore it. It just means Vegeta really likes grapes.
> 
> I am enjoying this almost as much as Bulma...


	7. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7  
> This will be much different than the previous. There is going to be my version of plot and back story. I am not amazing at writing blurbs, so I'm not going to try. Just know that this Chapter is different and distant from the rest. Please go back, go somewhere else, if all you want is smut. There's a taste in here; but it's not the main course.
> 
> To everyone who stays.. xoxo  
> But no spoilers.
> 
> Be warned- this Chapter is rather LONG. But all good things are, right?  
> Just Saiyan.  
> (I had to)

Part two

Chapter 7

In the seven days since Vegeta had blasted a ragged hole in his life, the Prince had stayed well away from Capsule Corp and the Woman. He’d left her without a word. When his mind caught up with the injury he’d inflicted upon her frail human body in an act of unadulterated animal instinct Vegeta had felt too many confused emotions to try and make sense of them.

He’d followed his first impulse and literally fled the scene of the crime. Bulma, laid out beneath him, ravaged and whimpering softly, had shocked him. What he had done shocked him.

_I’m a fucking monster._

Her vital blood in his mouth tasted too good; it frightened him. The fact that he’d bitten her like some cheap vampire in a romance novel disgusted him. That it was exactly the thing he’d wanted more than anything in the universe at that moment horrified him.

Unable to think clearly or to understand himself, Vegeta had risen from the bed, still shaking from the release and pleasure. Bulma turned over half-way, staring back at him with something like a mixture of disbelief and condemnation on her face, or so it seemed to him. The small, perfect ‘O’ of her mouth holding words he did not want to hear.

Vegeta felt his ki rise and pour out of his quaking form; saw the golden glow that if left unchecked would only cause her more damage and pain. She saw it and though he completely doubted that he had his interpretation of this part correct, had seemed about to smile through the sheen of tears on her face.

Vegeta did not see whatever the completion of that changing expression would have been. He focused his ki and rose into the air. The Woman had reached out a hand toward him. Vegeta curled his naked body into a ball and launched himself out the large windows of her chamber and into the sky.

The thin cry Bulma gave was lost in the explosion of glass that was the ear-splitting result of his super sonic exit. The sparking sound of ki roared in his head, too loud for any other noise to overcome. Vegeta unfurled his body high above the destroyed balcony, looking back for an endless moment.

_What have I done? What kind of nightmare I am?_

Anger rose, bitter as bile. He twisted in the air, fighting himself. Part of him wanted to go back. To at least make certain that the woman was…

_What? Alright? No, she is NOT alright! Shut the everlasting fuck up and get the hell away from her!_

>_>_>_

There was nothing in the sky but a bright streak and the echoing boom of the sound barrier being violated by the time Bulma got to the hole formerly known as her balcony. Glass and plaster crunched under the tennis shoes she had hastily shoved her feet into during her headlong rush to try and stop the obviously distraught Prince.

The look in the wide, black eyes had scared her. His usual smirk turned into an almost blank shocked horror. Before she could even think of anything to say, he’d vanished in a crash and blur.

Bulma watched the direction of the golden streak in the sky. He was headed in the direction of the sea.

_Why do all the best nights of my life end up in broken glass?_

Bulma shrieked in surprise when her bedroom door was thrown open and her parents poured in. Her father instantly spun around, nearly falling back out through the doorway in his haste not to look at his thoroughly disheveled and nude daughter. But her mother had no such qualms.

“Bulma!” Panchi cried in her high pitched and nearly nasal voice, “What has happened, dear? What’s going on?”

The blond matron rushed to her daughter, snatching a rumpled sheet from the bed to wrap around her. Bulma took the fabric and draped it over her shoulders, her face turning a bright shade of red.

“Mom- Dad- If you just give me a moment, I’ll be out in a flash!” the Woman began, but her father cut her off. He’d seen the huge hole in the wall and then slowly turned on the spot to take in the rest of the room.

“Bulma, what happened here?” he said in a very uncharacteristically serious voice. Dr. Briefs was a genius, of the there was no doubt, but he was also one of the most absent-minded and unobservant humans ever born with such a high IQ.

Bulma glanced around, her mouth flattening into a compressed line of consternation at the reality of the sight both her parents were now gawking at.

It came up from someplace in her stomach and bubbled out of her in breathless gales. Bulma could only laugh and laugh.

She held out her arms to encompass the room, draped like a ghost in the white sheet, her blue hair standing out at all manner of awkward angles.

“Guys, I love you but there is really no easy way to explain this,” she said in between attempts to get a proper breath, “So just get out!”

Panchi looked at her husband and an unspoken, married communication passed between them. Dr. Briefs walked out of the room, muttering something about starting the tea kettle. Panchi turned back to peer at Bulma, her blue eyes slits.

“We could hear you,” she said candidly. Panchi did not have the filter that most mothers had with their children, she always said exactly what she was thinking no matter how uncomfortable it made other people. “Until the room blew up you two sounded like you were playing nicely.”

_That’s a way to put it, Mom!_

 If anything, Bulma’s face turned a deeper shade of red but she could not stop the giggles that were the result of events of the last few minutes.

_Memo to me… Invest in sound proofing! Memo number two: consider moving out. Of the country!_

Panchi took in the state of her daughters formerly pristine bed. The bed posts torn from the frame and lying haphazardly on the floor. The linens in such a state of disarray; ripped and seeming scorched in places. There was also the gaping orifice through which the star filled sky shone. A large basin on the floor with a goodly amount of food was tipped over and its contents spattered in shards of glass and wall.

Bulma hitched the sheet up around her neck and crossed her arms over her chest under it, concealing the marks on her body that her mother had not taken notice of in the rather dim light of the room. Those were just a few more things the Woman did not want to have to try to explain.

Panchi focused on her daughters flushed face and waited a few moments for her laughter to play itself out. She reached out and smoothed a cowlick of blue, cupping a hot cheek in her cool, elegant hand.

“Did he hurt you?”

Bulma turned to gaze out at the sky. The golden trail of Vegeta’s passing had faded.

“Yes. Oh, gods, Mom, yes.”

>_>_>_

Vegeta flew in no particular direction for quite a while. The air was very cold at this altitude and it bit into his exposed skin like invisible needles. But he made no effort to lessen the discomfort.

Very carefully the Prince thought of nothing until the glitter of the ocean distracted him from trying to distract himself. Deliberately, he shot down from the sky, aiming for an outcrop of rocky cliff. He didn’t slow and he didn’t take any precautions to protect himself save to wrap his tail around his vulnerable nether bits. The explosion of impact could be heard for miles when he hit the raw stone at around 400 miles an hour with the force of an avenging comet.

_Stupid ass decision number 12 for today._

That was the first thought Vegeta had upon coming back to himself in the crater he’d created in the cliffside. He was upside down, mostly buried in pulverized rock and very newly formed sand. It only took a concentrated thought to raise his already excited ki enough to send the confining earthwork up and away, leaving him lying in open air. Blood caked the side of his head, again and he was relatively certain his left shoulder was out of the socket. Also, again.

_Why is it always the damned left arm?_

After a while the Prince sat up and floated up to sit on the top of the newly remodeled cliff to look out at the sea. His mind was a riot of turmoil. He was ashamed and confused and numerous other emotions that he was unfamiliar with but that were all related to a kind of self-loathing he had no experience with.

The wind was soothing now, warm from the water, it felt good on the abraded skin of his limbs, face and chest. But that was lost in the boiling thoughts that all tried to out shout the others in his head.

Vegeta had just had the most fulfilling night of all his long life. He had never known such pleasure or such freedom to feel it. Being buried in the willing woman had taken him to heights of ecstasy he had never even imagined. Sex had always been a release of tension and pent up need. Rather selfish in its execution and forgotten as soon as the afterglow wore off. But not this time. This time it had been a shared experience and an exploration. He’d wanted to give Bulma the same insanity he’d given into, to know that she took as much of him as he took of her.

To divide and conquer, as it were; even though his partner had been willing. Begged him for it even. Given him permission to do things to her small body that he would never have attempted without her encouragement. She’d wrecked him just as surely as she’d been wrecked.

And then, at the moment when the glory had been at its greatest, he’d lost his careful and impenetrable control. Bared his fangs like a savage and driven his fangs into her, tasted her blood on his tongue and pumped her so full of his own essence that he’d felt it spill out over the tops of his thighs.

But he couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t understand what had driven him to do it.

Vegeta dropped his head into his hands.

The Prince was at a disadvantage that no one else on the Planet Earth would understand with the unlikely exception of Kakarot. He was an alien, for all that he appeared human. There were many similarities between Earthlings and Saiyans, but they were not the same species. Outwardly Vegeta could, if he wished, pass for human. The sharpness of his features simply made him more handsome than was usual for an Earth man and his hair could be chalked up to just being weird (which wasn’t that weird on Earth anymore- he’d seen enough MTV shows to know that). The build of his exceptional body was usually hidden by clothing but could be the result of good genes and effort. No one dared to comment twice on his height and his tail was not difficult to conceal. But that was all superficial. Under the skin, Vegeta was Saiyan down to the last cell. There was no way for him to be anything else.

Raised as he had been in Frieza’s service, with only Nappa and Raditz to learn from, there was so much about his own kind that he simply didn’t know. It should have been his father’s duty to teach him as a young cub all the things he would need to know as a grown man. Should have been. But the King of the Saiyans had sold his eldest son and heir into slavery at a tender age, leaving him to grow to his maturity in ignorance of his own kind.

Raditz was only slightly older than the young prince and vastly less intelligent, no help from that quarter. Nappa could have taught him, mentored him through the uncomfortable years of adolescence but the big man had not been exactly the nurturing type. He was a warrior and no more complicated than that.

So Vegeta had grown up with a series of trials and errors to learn from. He had, in his own opinion, just made another critical error.

Sitting as he has, with his head bowed, he caught the scent of the woman rising from his skin mingled with his own musky smell. On the one hand it threatened to make him sick and on the other it was painfully erotic.

_This is just too fucked up!_

Vegeta shot into the air again and propelled himself out over the rolling waves of the shining sea. All at once the Prince simply powered down to nothing and let his body drop. The water was cold, dark and he let it swallow him completely. Saiyans were able to hold their breaths for quite a while by humanoid standards, as Vegeta had found out while on Namek and he used every millimeter of his lung capacity before rising to the surface.

It felt good to float on top of the water; it’s rocking motion was comforting. The waves washed away the sand and blood from his punishing impact along with the evidence of Bulma. When he’d had enough, he swam to the shore and used the rough sand to scrub his skin until he was nearly raw.

Exhaustion caught with the Saiyan, finally. He’d pushed himself to the end of his tolerance. Vegeta could not bring himself to consider the idea of returning to CC, though he had taken nothing at all with him in his headlong flight from Bulma’s bedroom and was beginning to feel chilled. Being naked wasn’t really that much a hardship, he had often ended up in that state during a plantwide purge and he trained in nothing but his skin in the GR when clothing would only give the bots more to burn off. Vegeta was uncommonly comfortable in his own skin but the idea of being found by some hapless human, naked and asleep on the beach was one he did not look forward to with relish.

In the end, Vegeta dragged himself into the air again and headed out over the open water. Far west a series of shitty but mostly uninhabited islands could be found. Shitty because there was little fresh water and nothing decadent to scavenge for food. It would be warm water from a pool of dubious cleanliness and ki scorched raw meat; a small enough price to pay for being alone.

Sometime toward dawn, Vegeta dropped out of the sky once more time. In the deep shadows of tropical forest, he blasted a tolerably sized cavern into the bedrock and let himself sleep. Never had the indulgence of the feather and foam mattresses that were the go-to at Capsule Corp been so missed.

 

>_>_>_

Bulma looked often to the west in the days that followed. Her bedroom was under construction, confused and slightly alarmed workmen clearing the damage and rebuilding the demolished wall and balcony. She had them tear out the inner lining of the walls of the chamber while they were at it, adding a double layer of state of the art sound proofing.

It took her fancy to have the entire room redone and she designed a new décor to go with the mood she found herself in. The bed was junked, no point in bothering to even try to fix that. She had the carpet torn out and the chamber redone in shades of deep, rich blue and stark, bottomless black. The fabrics were heavy silks and woven damask, very unlike the airy gauze-like texture of her lavender and purple.

In the meantime, she had taken a smaller guest room in a different wing. But the room was uncomfortable to her and she found she could not sleep well. Not that there was anything wrong with it or the furnishings, everything the huge structure that made up her home was top of the line.

It was after several restless nights and irritated days that she realized what the real problem was. When she did, it made her angry.

Bulma had slid out of the unfamiliar bed and wandered down to the kitchens. A heavy-lidded glance at the microwave told her it was after 2 am.

_Definitely the most obnoxious time of night. Nothing but crap-lousy infomercials on TV, everybody else in this hemisphere snoozing like I should be and I can’t even begin to rationalize coffee. I hate 2am._

She consoled herself with some of her mothers calming chamomile and kava tea for 5 sips before that nasty concoction went flying, mug and all, into the garden.

_Take that, stupid sleeping flowers. I really hate 2am._

Unwilling to return to the unfriendly bed for another round of toss and turn, Bulma wandered into the pool room. The water was inviting, so she let her loose night dress fall to the floor before tipping herself backwards into it. Unhappily, Bulma did laps until she was out of breath and her muscles were screaming. But it wasn’t a war with her body that she was fighting, it was her mind that would not be still.

The night dress stuck to her skin when she put it back on and returned to the main part of the house to wander aimlessly. Inevitably, the Woman ended up back in the corridor where her chamber was still a hot mess of reconstruction. She wound her way through the tools and building materials until she was, once again, standing at the opening Vegeta had created the last time she’d seen him.

In her mind she could see him still.

_Tied to my bed. His arms straining against the silk cords that bound him._

She looked at the doorway to the master bathroom.

_A bloody Prince stretched out in the bath, black eyes closed, gloriously naked in the water._

A new dais for her replacement bed was already in place. Raised a few feet off the main floor, she had designed it to be the show piece of the room.

_Naked and shining; on his knees just before he took me… Before he split me open._

Bulma convulsed, her stomach and lower belly contacting around the emptiness inside her. A wet rush led to a pooled heat that made her pant. The fabric of the damp night dress annoyed her, making her pull it away from her aching breasts. Too hot all over, Bulma fled the room.

There wasn’t anywhere to go. She stood in the deserted hallway outside her chamber, leaning against the cool wall, one hand inside the neck of her clothing. The nipple that she rolled between her thumb and forefinger perked up like a cherry pit, still holding the memory of the attentions of the Prince.

Bulma’s fevered gaze fell on the one room in the house she had not entered since returning from Namek. Now, she quietly opened the door and slipped inside the darkened suite.

It did not appear that Vegeta had done too much of anything to personalize his rooms. There was only one difference that she could see from the way the room had been the day she’d shown it to him. On the table in front of the window sat a sizable rectangle of polished wood.

Bulma went to examine it, flipping a sconce on as she passed. It was a sand garden, surprisingly. Tiny succulents grew there, impeccably groomed. Meticulously carved stones added esoteric balance and grace as did the stone pool just off the center of the garden. Three tiny flowering plants floated serenely in the clear water. It was beguiling.

On a raised platform behind the garden, also made of polished wood, was a row of candles. Each one suspended in a white glass cup filled halfway with water. Fascinated, Bulma sat cross legged on the huge cushion before the low table and opened one of the drawers. Several books in that one. The one under it was had a miniature assortment of finely crafted bamboo tools for tending the garden. One the other side of the desk she found what she was looking for, long slender matches which she used to light the candles.

_He sits here. Silent and alone in this flickering light._

She smiled sadly at the mental picture. It was both beautiful and somehow tragic.

Out of curiosity she opened the final drawer, below the matches and surplus candles. Strangely, there was a tablet, not much different from the one she constantly carried in her lab coat. A swipe opened the display.

_Vegeta has a playlist!? Kami, snooping is enlightening._

The Prince did indeed have a playlist and a selection of movies on the device. She scrolled through his impressive collection of instrumental music; he was a fan of the strings. On impulse she pressed the portrait of an artist holding a violin. Intricate strands of music began to play. But Bulma was a Top Forty girl so the soft music drifted around her mostly as background noise.

 His taste in movies was not as out of character, he seemed to like anything with fighting, explosions and warfare. Until she came to the near end of the list and then Bulma burst out laughing.

_A Knight’s Tale! Now I can die in peace. I’ve seen EVERYTHING!_

The rest of the suite looked as though no one lived in it. Every possession he had was stowed away and out of sight with obsessive compulsive neatness. The few extra sets of clothes that Vegeta owned were precisely folded and placed in drawers according to function. Even his undershorts were folded into tidy squares.

She knew that Vegeta did not need to shave, so the lack of the usual male grooming equipment was no shock, nor did he seem to pay any particular attention to his hair. A simple wide toothed comb was the only thing in his bathroom for that purpose. He had exactly one toothbrush, one tube of minty toothpaste and one bottle of hair and body wash. There was a loofah, which also made her laugh a little until she realized he probably used it to scrub the blood off his skin after yet another self or bot inflicted injury in the GR.

Bulma wandered back into the bedroom. Vegeta hadn’t even changed the bed clothes to anything more personalized. The king-sized feather topped foam bed was still sporting the plain white linens that were the default in her house. The bed was made with military sharpness, appearing to never have been slept in at all.

_Somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he slept on the floor. Maybe hanging by his tail from the ceiling._

Bulma had never seen Vegeta truly sleep, being knocked unconscious didn’t really count as sleep. She assumed that he did. If Goku were any sample of Saiyans, they were capable of sleeping with the same superhuman greed with which they could eat.

There was no so much as an imprint on the full pillow, not so much as a stray black hair to indicate that the man had ever even touched his own bed.

Bulma sat down, wincing as her bottom make a deep dent in the pristine comforter.

_OCD might notice. Too late now._

She leaned over and fell back against his pillow, the deep feather filled thing allowing her head to sink into its ultra-soft cradle.

The gently flickering light from the candles threw soft, dancing shadows over the walls, making the whole room appear to move. As she relaxed Bulma became aware of the fabric of her night dress, still damp and sticking to the curves of her body. She sat up and pulled it over her head, settling back again naked. Perhaps the Saiyan hadn’t changed the linens because they were sumptuously smooth and cool to the touch. She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back, working out the soreness from swimming too many unaccustomed laps in the pool.

Bulma became aware of the music drifting out of the tablet by the sand garden. Her heart sped up slightly to match the pulsing beat of the violin that wove its way through the cords of the cellos that played through its complex melody. Bulma listened with her eyes closed, letting her body respond to the rhythm as though she were dancing to it. With it.

Turning her head into the downy pillow, the Woman caught the unmistakable scent of the Prince. Sandalwood or something close to it and male with a hint of the ocean, it was so distinct that she turned over completely to bury her face in it.

_Vegeta…_

The music pounded into her, the lights moving in sinuous tendrils over the white of the walls almost as golden as the faint aura Vegeta created when he was holding his ki in check. Bulma wrapped her arms around the pillow, face pressed into it to better breathe in his smell. As if he were channeling it from wherever on Earth the Prince was hiding the music changed to something all together faster and harsher, the power of the string instruments setting a pace that only a Saiyan could match.

All the desire and emptiness need Bulma had felt when she pictured Vegeta captive in her own room slammed back down into her. Her hips pressed hard into the bed, rotating in the effort to find some measure of his touch. She rolled over and pulled the extra pillow from beside her, scissoring her legs around it.

She pulled her nipples the way that he had, hurting herself a little. If she curved her back in the right way Bulma could bring her nipple to her lips. She sucked the little peak into her mouth and bit down on the hard bud, making herself cry out.

Bulma ground her hips against the pillow between her legs, certain the she was ruining the pillowcase and not caring. The music drove her on with demanding notes deep enough to vibrate her rib cage. The candles seemed to paint sex on the walls, the shadows joining and crashing into each other with abandon that made her feel as though Vegeta were with her, his hands finding the places that the light offered up as a sacrifice.

Bulma flipped her body over again, pinned the pillow under her and writhed. She drew her knees up under her the way she had when Vegeta had delivered the first resounding slap to her bare ass. Her mind was a melee of imagines and memories; her body weeping with the need to be filled, touched, taken and stretched.

The Woman rose up on her knees and leaning over on the support of her hands, rode the pillow in the most wanton masturbation of her life.

_I need you, Vegeta… Please come back to me._

The music stirred her higher and when it hit a crescendo Bulma came with it. She buried two fingers in her pussy and spread herself as wide open as she could, crying out for her Prince. The orgasm left her limp and breathless, wrapped in his scent now mixed with her own.

Bulma fell asleep buried in the messed comforter, her arms and legs wrapped around the pillows, tears of longing still wet on her cheeks.

>_>_>_

Vegeta trained under water off the shore of his adopted island. Without his Gravity Room, the Prince had to improvise to find ways to challenge himself. Without a sparring partner, he had developed a routine of endurance training that tested him in ways the Gravity Room could not. He improved his ability to move at speed through the resistance of the water and increased the time during which he could go without air.

Training under water had several advantages, he found. He did not get sweaty or grimy, which appealed to his cleanliness trait, nor did he tend to injury himself as the training, while difficult, was passive in nature. Vegeta performed hundreds of katas per day, exhausting himself to the point of hypothermic collapse before he would rise from the water to go to his rest. Another added benefit was being in the water made procuring food extremely easy. More often than not he would simply wait for something edible to swim by, grab it or blast it and then throw it to the shore to wait until he was ready to eat it.

Vegeta had grown up eating the calorically rich but barely palatable fare provided by the lizard lord. He could subsist of the most tasteless of rations if the needs be. Not that he preferred it. In fact, Vegeta found that he was rather spoiled after living with the endless supply of gourmet food provided by Mrs. Briefs.

If he was honest with himself, there were many things he missed about Capsule Corp. He’d hunted and skinned a large quadruped from a nearby island, using the dried skin as a ground cover to sleep on. It was one of the only things he’d bothered to make for the sole sake of comfort. It wasn’t a matter of laziness; he simply knew that nothing he cobbled together in the wild was going to hold a candle to luxurious accommodations of Bulma’s house. And sleeping rough, eating what he killed without embellishment caused him discomfort. Which Vegeta felt he deserved.

He’d had the best circumstances under which to train for the first time in his life. The woman provided him with equipment unrivaled in the galaxy, expert medical care when he let himself get hurt badly enough to need it and the kind of food that most sentient creatures could not even dream about because there was nothing to compare it to on any other planet.

_Who the fuck are you kidding? You miss her, you asshole._

Vegeta was under water going through the graceful katas that his body was so practiced in that his mind had plenty of room to wander while he went through the motions. He was still grieving for what he’d done.

The grieving had taken a new turn as the days turned to weeks. He’d grown used to the food provided by the sea and the islands. The fact that there was no sweet coffee or ice no longer ruined every sip of liquid that he took. He didn’t care so much that his ‘bed’ was nothing more than a hallow dug out of the floor of his improvised cave filled with vegetation and covered by an animal skin.

However, Vegeta was lonely. He’d spent so much time alone as a youth and into adulthood that he would have thought being on his own was his natural state. It wasn’t, he realized. Not anymore. He had just never been exposed to the company of anyone whose presence didn’t make his skin crawl after more than a few minutes.

He’d been able to stand Nappa and Raditz while they were killing, purging and destroying together because all the murder and mayhem took his attention away from how dull and one dimensional their company really was. They hadn’t ever had conversations deeper than their next mission. They were his subjects, honour bound to follow his orders, but they were not his friends.

What the Prince missed was the biting wit and endless attitude of the crazy woman whose house he had shared. She wasn’t afraid of him at all and that was novel. She made him laugh, Whether he wanted to or not, introduced him to thinks he was either ignorant of or too proud to try out by himself. Bulma looked after him, convincing him to rest when she could see his exhaustion and nagging him into medical care when he was hurt. Never having really known his own mother, having a woman to fuss over him in the way she did was a sinful delight. Somehow she always took the sting out helping him, making it seem as though he was doing her the favour by accepting. Most of all she _believed_ in him. Bulma never once wavered in her certainty that he would Ascend and never flagged in her unwavering support of that goal. She had so many things that he found admirable. Brains. Beauty. And above all, Bulma was loyal.

Vegeta rose out of the water and absent mindedly let the wind push him back to the shore. A blue fin tuna was waiting on the beach, killed neatly by a ki blast that removed its head. He severed its tail and gutted the fish with his hands, then carried the rest out to rinse it in the ocean away from the shore.

The Prince came to rest on the sun warmed stone of the beach head and ripped off a large chunk of the fish. Tuna was better raw, so he enjoyed the gift fresh from the sea. The first bite brought the typical thoughts that plagued him relentlessly.

_Bulma would love this, tuna is her favourite._

_Damn._

He laid back on the stone to let himself dry, the wind warm for the moment. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop it, Vegeta let him mind play its games with him.

The tickling breezes became her fingers and her tongue on his skin; it tugged at his hair the way she had. Even the soft flesh of the sea creature in his mouth found a way to remind the Prince of Bulma. That jolted him out of his reverie. He sat up, spit the mouthful of fish out and coughed, disgusted with himself.

_Now I’m a sick fuck on top of being a sociopath. This has got to stop._

He sat there without moving a muscle until far past dark. A deep sigh that pulled something from his soul escaped him and the forlorn Prince rose into the air.

Vegeta went high enough to not be seen from the ground and sped toward Central City. Once there is was no big deal to dig a makeshift door through the brick wall of a clothing store with his hands and help himself to a suit of human clothes. He had yet to feel comfortable in the kind of clothing that was typical of Earth men, so he chose things that were closer to his usual training outfits and didn’t make him feel like a pretty spring flower. He smiled.

_Bulma and her pink shirt with those ridiculous yellow pants…_

Acceptably dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans (expertly altered by a burning fingertip so that his tail could comfortably wrap around his waist), Vegeta searched the store for anything like shoes but found nothing. Shrugging, he pulled on a pair of black socks with the texture of rabbit fur that felt outstanding on his feet.

_Whatever._

A tap to the register dented it enough to cause the drawer to pop open. He took what he thought he might need and jammed the thing closed. Vegeta did not feel bad about this burglary. Bulma had explained the concept of insurance to him after he had accidently blown up part of a Starbucks for giving him an espresso. It was so bitter and uncompromisingly atrocious that he had decided he was protecting Earth by taking out the machine that dispensed the vile concoction. If not for Bulma’s fast and loud intervention the barista would have suffered the same fate as the machine. Vegeta still didn’t understand how coffee and espresso could be made from the same plant.

Bulma had laughed with delight when he’d contended that fact. He remembered that little adventure.

“But you only drink coffee with a ton of thick cream and six cubes of sugar!” she’d quipped.

“How else would you drink it?” Vegeta had responded, with the certainty that very light and very sweet was the only way anyone in their right mind would ever take the beverage.

“In your defense,” the Woman had replied, patting him fondly on the shoulder, “You also think a Frappuccino isn’t just a milkshake. You innocent little thing.”

He remembered how she’d laughed, so unconscious of the effect it had on the people around her. Old ladies looked at Bulma and smiled indulgently at her youth and exuberance, probably recalling their own. Young women looked at her with envy for her beauty and the luck she obviously had to have landed such a supreme example of male perfection as the man she was with. And men looked at her with varying degrees of desire, perversion and creepiness.

Vegeta had rounded on one man who kept trying to get too close to Bulma and smelled like old cheese and shady basements to the Saiyans’ sensitive nose. Bulma spied the ki ball Vegeta had brewing in his right hand and with a placating smile at the staff and customers alike had dragged him out and pushed him into the car, laughing like a young girl the whole time.

It wasn’t just the life altering sex. It was the times like that that the man missed. He picked up the phone beside the ruined register and dialed the three digits that would summon law enforcement. When the operator answered, asking what the emergency was Vegeta growled deep in his throat and set the phone down, leaving the line open.

He didn’t bother to hurry, leaving the shop at a leisurely pace back through the hole. He surveyed the damage and smirked to himself. The humans wouldn’t know what to make of the scene. It might be amusing to watch the story on the news later.

Central City was not as high on the financial totem pole as West City were Bulma lived. It was obvious in everything around him, even the air wasn’t as clean. But Vegeta felt much more invisible than he did whenever he’d had occasion to roam the streets of the Woman’s home base. He walked through the merchant district to Cheapside. This was a place where he could pass unnoticed and mostly uninhibited.

Without doing or saying anything at all Vegeta exuded an air of danger that surrounded him like a taste in the atmosphere. He shoved his hands in his pockets, vehemently wishing he’d thought to outfit himself with a pair of gloves. For all that he generally feared nothing in the galaxy there were a few things he would actively go out of his way to avoid.

Touching people or anything that people (very especially strangers) had touched with his bare hands was one. He would take a spirit bomb to the face before he would ever admit it but Vegeta was a germaphobe. Humans, in his opinion, were revoltingly contaminated with everything from microbes to fungi and knowing that none of these things was at all likely to be able to breach the power of his alien immune system didn’t make him any more comfortable at all. It was an extension of this paranoia that drove him to keep his quarters so scrupulously tidy in whatever place he dwelt. A stray hair or tumbling dust bunny could send him on a cleaning spree that would result in the area having to be repainted.

Another memory came to him and he tucked his chin to his chest to keep from laughing out loud. He had been in the middle of raiding the pantry during a break in training one afternoon and heard Panchi scream. He’d stopped what he was doing just long enough to reach out with his senses and ascertain that there were no foreign ki signatures in the house, then gone back to his pillaging. A few moments later another scream had followed the first.

This time Vegeta did stop what he was doing. And faster than he meant to move, flew out of the kitchens and into the big living room that the family used for spending time together. Bulma was holding her mother on the far side of the room, both woman wide eyed and pressed to the wall as though they were under attack. Responding to the feeling in the room Vegeta had powered up and scanned the room in vain for the threat.

Finding nothing, he stood up out of the offensive posture he’d naturally fallen into and stared at the two women.

“What the bleeding hell?” he’d demanded, baffled and not happy about it.

Bulma had only raised a pointed finger in the direction of the doorway he had just come through. Vegeta looked around wildly, though he didn’t see how something that would warrant such fear could have snuck up behind him.

“I don’t see-“he focused and then turned back to the women, eyebrows raised so high that they nearly met his widows peak. He backed up three steps and cupping his white glove in what seemed to be mid-air, said, “Really?”

“Get it OUT!” Panchi had cried pitifully, both her hands pressed to the base of her neck in the universal sign of feminine horror.

Vegeta didn’t know whether to be pissed or amused or some hybrid of both.

Bulma had swallowed and in a much calmer voice asked him to please remove the large spider hanging by an invisible thread from the air vent over the doorway before her beloved mother had a stroke.

Bulma had heard Panchi scream and run into the room to find her mother huddled against the far wall. Like the Prince she had run straight past the arachnid without even seeing it. The second scream, the one that summoned their saviour had come from the Woman when she realized the little creature cut off their only route of escape.

Vegeta started to summon a tiny ki ball to incinerate the cause of distress but Bulma had stopped him.

“Please. Vegeta. Don’t hurt it,” she had implored. She was afraid of the bug but also kind enough in her soft heart not to want it harmed. He didn’t understand her but the big blue eyes looking at him wouldn’t let him simply kill the thing and be done with it.

Uncharacteristically, Vegeta closed his gloved hand in a cage around the spider and pulled it loose from it’s tether. He’d let it go a few hundred yards away from the house in the shrubbery. Part of him was glad that for once he was the good guy. Yeah, it was only a spider, but a guy had to start someplace.

He walked on and allowed himself to fall into another memory. This was didn’t show him in a very good or heroic light in any way, shape or form but it still made him want to laugh. In retrospect, of course.

Bulma had upgraded the GR and wanted him to go with her to test out the new tech. Vegeta demurred, saying that he had to spend the afternoon in meditation. She’d dutifully come back later that evening, excited to show him her work. Again, he had bowed out, or tried to. Bulma had not believed his lame excuse about needing to concentrate for the time being on high altitude training.

Bulma hooked a hand onto her hip and pursed her lips at him.

“Okaaayyy…so that’s a total lie. What’s up Vegeta, afraid to be alone with little ole’ me?”

Vegeta had scoffed and crossing his arms, rooting himself to the floor.

“Go away Woman. I’ll test out your upgrades when I am damned good and ready,” he’d told her and started to walk away. Bulma grabbed the Prince and placed her slight frame in his way.

He’d raised his hand, the palm glowing with menacing purple light. Bulma, with her typical fearless bravado had extended her dainty fingers out to touch the deadly ki forcing Vegeta to quash it or risk burning off her hand.

“Thought so!” she had quipped and proceeded to drag him off to the GR. Vegeta struggled with himself. He could easily and simply escape her by taking to the air. Or he could allow her to pull him along like a child and risk wounding his pride. He still hadn’t made up his mind and was rather wishing that a meteor would streak through the sky at that moment so that he could let it knock him out when the thing, or rather things, he’d been avoiding came into view.

Vegeta stopped again and this time did not let Bulma move him. She pulled and then went around his back to push against him. He stayed exactly where he was.

She had reminded him so much of himself the day with the spider that he nearly set himself on fire with the heat of his blush. Whereas Bulma and Panchi had no problem cowering in fear of a creature 300x smaller than they, Vegeta could not bring himself to even acknowledge his weakness. Bulma stared around for several moments before her keen mind fixated on the only thing in the garden that was out of place.

The Woman opened her mouth, closed it, looked around again and then back at the Prince. Astonishment made her eyes go wide.

“Are you, oh Mighty Prince of all Saiyans, afraid of WORMS?”

Vegeta’s red face and stony silence were more telling than a confession.

She had laughed so hard that she was forced to lean against him to keep from falling over.

“You can destroy worlds! You are basically indestructible! How can you be afraid of a worm?” she managed to get out between gasps and hiccups.

Vegeta drew himself up to his full height and put on his best and most arrogant scowl, “I am not _afraid_ , Woman. I find those things repulsive and unnatural and I refuse to subject my royal self to such a repellent life form. Most revolting, hideous, gruesome…Bleck!” he trailed off with a shudder.

Bulma had looked from him to the worms slithering on the rain wet cement of the walkways that crisscrossed the garden, nonplussed, “Vegeta, you can _fly.”_

He had said nothing more, opting to lift the Woman and do exactly that.

But it wasn’t that he was afraid of the gross, slimy things. They were between him and his precious GR, yes, but he knew he could fly over them. What he wanted more than anything to avoid at that moment was approximately the same thing that had kept Bulma and her mother frozen in the corner of the living room.

Vegeta did not know what the limitation of worms were when it came to travel and the idea of a herd or whatever one called a battalion of the living lines of snot invading his GR while he was trapped in there with them, between him and the door was beyond consideration. He’d already blown one GR up by accident. He didn’t think Bulma and her father would build him another one if he obliterated another one on purpose.

He couldn’t have said what was so awful about the harmless, beneficial animals exactly. It was more that they just grossed him out. They did not exist of Vegetasei or another planet he’d been on. Which he laid down to the wisdom of the Kai, because why put sickeningly animals whose mouth and asshole were the _same hole_ on any planet, let alone more than one.

He’d been watching one of the seemingly endless documentaries available on the treasure that is Netflix and they had gone into depth about the earthworm. By the end Vegeta had been ready to pack a bag and move off the planet.

The knowledge that these monsters thrived under the very ground that he routinely walked on made him feel sick. The idea that one of the things might come into contact with his skin made his nerve endings vibrate in a bad way. Just looking at the undulating squishy thing made him feel nauseous.

He had quietly tried to explain this to Bulma from the relative safety of the airlocked GR. It mattered to him that she understand that he was never afraid of the repugnant, brainless mistakes of creation. They were appalling; unspeakably disgusting to him but not frightening.

Bulma had listened to the Prince and then nodded sagely but strangely made no remark. She had allowed him to fly them both back to the house without bothering with the GR. The next day when he went to check if the rain that drove the abominations to the surface had finally stopped, he found that it had not but there were also no more worms writhing on the sidewalks. Closer inspection showed that lengths of wooden planking had been pressed into the soil at the borders of all the walkways, low to the ground and inconspicuous so as not to detract from the beauty of Panchi’s prized flowers, the wooden barriers kept the worms from flowing out with the rainwater.

Bulma never said a word about it to Vegeta, never so much as mentioned the fact that they shared a planet with things Vegeta would gladly have annihilated free of charge and guilt.

Vegeta walked on, trying to sort himself out and figure out if he could do what he so desperately wanted to do. How to be where he knew he wanted to be.

The proud Prince did not, in fact, fear earthworms. Or pain. Or even death. He feared rejection.

>_>_>_

Bulma woke up in Vegeta’s bed, tangled in linens and a little sticky. She slowly extricated herself and realized she was still nude. With a dash of inspiration, she went to the carefully folded clothes in his drawers and took out on of his t-shirts. The Saiyan wasn’t big on human clothes but he could fill out a t-shirt as though they had been invented to look hot on him. It was too big for Bulma, exactly as she’d hoped.

She took it into his spotless bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Since it was all that was available, Bulma used Vegeta’s body wash, pleased by the familiar smell. It wasn’t very feminine, nothing like the girly stuff in her own washroom but she knew she wouldn’t wash it off right away. She’d been right to choose the sandalwood for him; it was very similar. How had she never noticed how good he smelled?

Toweling off she caught sight of herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. The shadows of the bruises he’d left on her chest and thighs were gone but not the one on the slope of her neck and shoulder.

She covered the mark with her hand. It was warmer than the surrounding skin and incredibly sensitive to the touch. The bite mark had healed with unnatural alacrity, but that strangeness remained. She would find herself running her fingers over the two half moons often without thinking about it, arousing by the feeling. It seemed to be connected to something else deep inside her and never failed to make her yearn for the missing Saiyan with the same intensity that she’d felt when she first saw him erect and tantalizing in her bathtub. She rubbed the mark and felt herself grow slippery again.

_It’s so much worse now that I know what he feels like. I wonder if anyone would notice if I spent all day in here pretending he’s that pillow. Could just lock the door and try to bang it out of my system._

She knew that what he’d done had either scared or dramatically disturbed Vegeta. Somehow, though she vaguely felt that she should feel the same, Bulma didn’t. It had hurt, certainly, but not in the way it should have. He’d bitten down hard on that tender place and that was painful but to Bulma it had come at exactly the right moment to enhance the climax that stole her soul. It was the perfect counterbalance; as she knew it would be when she’d offered him her neck in the first place.

The Woman had also known the moment his canines went gone through her skin, but that hadn’t been painful in anyway she could really understand. It had felt more like he’d reached inside her; the way he could so skillfully with his fingers, his tongue or his cock and pleasure spread from that point of insertion just as completely as it had from every other place where their bodies joined.

He had made a feral sound and she’d understood that whatever instinct that led him to fuck her so fearlessly in ways no human man could duplicate had also led him to need to taste her blood. Bulma had not been the least bit afraid, she had welcomed him to take what he needed from her. She wanted what he wanted if he wanted it that badly; the delirious feeling it gave her was an unexpected bonus. If she had the chance, Bulma knew she wouldn’t hesitate to invite Vegeta to do it again.

_And again. And again. I want to fuck that man forever…_

Bulma realized she’d been standing before the mirror, lost in thought for ten minutes. Reluctantly, she let her hand fall from the mark and turned away from her reflection.

_I’m going to have to buy a Saiyan sized dildo or I’m going to lose my fucking mind._

_…_

Once the linens were put back to rights (as best as she could replicate the military style with which Vegeta made his bed) and the burned-out beeswax candles were replaced, Bulma padded through the quiet house to the kitchen for her coffee. She thought about sending the cleaning crew to make a run through his bedroom but changed her mind.

_I want his scent; if that’s all I can have of him._

She was sitting quietly, staring out the window to the west with her back to the kitchen when her father walked into the room. The doctor blearily made his way to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup without noticing his daughter at the breakfast bar.

Turning, he startled badly when he caught sight of her.

“Bulma! Ah, my love you scared me,” he exclaimed but the man was as usual unflappable. When she turned, he was staring at her like she’d begun to grow another head, blue eyes narrowed.  But as he sat down a moment later his odd expression resolved into the sweet smile he reserved only for her on his moustache decorated face.

Bulma patted her hair and smiled back sheepishly, “That bad, is it?”

Dr. Briefs took a long sip of his coffee, black and strong exactly the way his daughter took hers and regarded her closely over the rim of the steaming mug.

“You miss him.”

It was a statement. He was looking at Bulma with the same penetrating expression with which he would examine a particularly interesting specimen in his lab. As though he could dissect the problem and figure it out with only his spectacled eyes.

She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t deny it.

“Well, I’m not going to sit around and watch my little girl suffer,” he declared in an energetic voice and kissed Bulma on the forehead. The venerable old scientist hopped up from his seat and strode out of the room in the direction of his laboratory talking to him himself under his breath about all problems having solutions if one just knew where to look.

Bulma looked down at herself. She’d chosen one of the t-shirts she’d given to Vegeta when he first came to stay with her. Nothing special at all about it. The neck was high enough to hide her bite mark, so that wasn’t what her father had been staring at. She pulled the fabric around and looked at the back.

_Badman._

_> _>_>__

The Prince was still at a loss when the sun came up. He’d walked all night and come to nothing close to a decision.

Hunger was eating his stomach lining and making him feel slightly sick so Vegeta took a seat in the first diner he found that didn’t smell like a dumpster fire. He was 1/2 way through his third serving of a brilliant invention called ‘Moons over My Hammy’ when a solid body dropped into the seat across from him.

“Well, my lad, you aren’t the easiest thing to find.”

Vegeta recognized the voice before he even looked up but thought he must have chosen the wrong restaurant after all because his delicious sandwich obviously had drugs in it. He blinked but the wide smile under the lavender moustache did not vanish.

“Bulma’s father?” he said stupidly, mouth full of eggs and ham.

“Last time I checked, yes. Do you mind?” the good doctor asked and without waiting for any kind of reply snatched up the remaining half of the breakfast masterpiece, “I didn’t have time this morning for Panchi’s excellent cooking.”

 Vegeta was too shocked to react to the sad loss of the ‘Hammy’ but the mention of Bulma’s mother shook him loose.

He put down his food and sat back trying to decide what was going on. Dr. Briefs for his part seemed completely at ease; if anything, extremely pleased with himself. He took a careful bite, hummed in appreciation and waved happily at the waitress.

The older woman came at once, relieved to have someone besides the Saiyan to focus on. Someone normal. She had been eyeing the intimidating young man with increasing suspicion. No one built the way he was could possibly eat that much. Also, no normal person ordered 6 cups of coffee- all at once. And that was after Vegeta (very logically, he thought) helpfully suggested that she just leave the whole coffee pot and the entire cream carafe on the table for him.

Dr. Briefs was not fussed over details like the ownership of coffee mugs. He simply chose one of the empty ones already on the table and held it out the waitress to be filled, at the same time ordering a few more of the restaurants amazing breakfast dishes. She just wrote down the order and walked away muttering to herself about weirdo’s from out of town.

_Could somebody please explain to me what the 7 hells is going on?_

“Bulma’s father…” Vegeta began slowly.

The doctor waved his coffee free hand airily, “By all means call me Dr. Briefs, my dear boy!”

Vegeta swallowed the urge to blow something up and started again, his voice falling an octave this time.

“What are you doing here, _Dr. Briefs_?”

“Well, that’s the question isn’t it?” the older man said, his own voice losing its playful tone, “What are we both doing here?”

Vegeta had no answer and so sat back, crossed his arms over his chest and just concentrated on looking stern. The glower had no effect.

“I love my daughter, Prince Vegeta. Her happiness is most important to me and so when I see her pining away for some idiot who should have known better than to vanish into thin air it makes me a little angry,” Dr. Briefs explained in a very professor-like way, as though he were talking to a misbehaving child. He held up and hand and actually shushed the Prince when he started to reply.

_I don’t think I’ve ever been shushed in my entire freaking life! Just one little ki ball under the table…no one will even notice._

Vegeta was envisioning Greedo in Star Wars. Original version not the re-mastered shit show.

Lowering his hand and his voice, Bulma’s father asked the Prince point blank, “Do you have any feelings for my child, boy, or did you disrupt her piece of mind for a non-committal roll in the proverbial hay?”

Vegeta was speechless.

As is usually only the case in stories, the waitress chose that moment to arrive with more food, saving Vegeta from having to answer. She cleared away the old plates and refilled every one of the mugs, obviously resigned to the bizarre natural of these two customers.

Vegeta dropped his eyes, unable to look Bulma’s father in the face. But that was not the behaviour of a member of the royal family. The crowned Prince squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and raised his chin to meet the other man head on.

“I do.”

_There._

“Well, now! That is excellent, my dear boy! Not the biggest idiot in the bunch after all. I’m so glad,” Dr. Briefs gushed all in one breath. He took a giant drink of coffee, stuffed and entire fried egg into his mouth and went on, “So then you must come home, of course. The Missus will be ever so glad to have you back, you know how much she likes to cook for her boys. Though between you and me I think the fact that all of you are built like she made the molds herself could have something to do with it.”

_For the love of…_

“She just goes on and on about how much she loves to watch you boys sparring. Especially when it’s hot and you end up shredding each other’s practice clothes,” another egg met its maker, but it didn’t slow the doctor down. Vegeta sat in a kind of horrified state of shock, unable or unwilling to register the words pouring out of the exuberant little man.

“Eat up, dear boy, please!” A plate slid across the table and came to a stop by running into Vegeta's elbow.

_If he calls me that one more time…_

“After Bulma and Yamcha called it quits, I was afraid she would let it make her bitter or that she would settle for someone unworthy of her just to avoid being alone. But I should have known better, she’s a smart one, my little girl,” he continued, drinking coffee and working his way through about 3000 calories of breakfast goodness.

The last bout of verbal diarrhea got Vegeta’s attention. In an attempt to engage the doctor further on that subject, he relaxed his arms as best he could and using his fingers (best tools for the job really) rolled half a California omelet into a pancake and bite into it.

_Gods, I LOVE Earth food! The androids are destroying this place over my dead, bloated corpse._

“I do not know very much about Yamcha or the customs for mating on this planet,” Vegeta said in an open ended way, hoping the doctor would go on. And that his mouthful of Earth goodness would excuse him from trying to speak again.

It was true, all Vegeta really knew about Yamcha was that he had been the mate of the Woman but was no longer. That and the weakling had gotten himself blown up by a Saibaman in the first ten minutes of battle. Which, to the Prince was not a glowing recommendation in any sense. Even Krillin had managed to defend himself and win against the Brussel sprout headed little mutants. Definitely not worthy of a creature such as Bulma. He didn’t know why she had chosen not to stay mated to the man.

Vegeta poked at a crepe, tried it, decided that he also loved this food and pulled the plate closer to him, waiting expectantly for the doctor to swallow enough of whatever he eating to speak.

“Vegeta, do the people of your home world mate for life?” the doctor asked. The Saiyan nodded and he continued, “Ours do not.”

Vegeta was unmoved by this information, his acquaintance on Earth wasn’t wide enough for any opinion of the matter to have been reached on his part. Most species, in his experience, did not mate for life.

“Bulma and Yamcha were together most of the last 14 years but they were always.. well there is a lot they _don’t_ have in common. And Yamcha has a wandering eye,” Dr. Briefs related, pushing away the last bites of omelet with a contented sigh.

“What is a ‘wandering eye’? A sickness”

Bulma’s father laughed, but there was the under tone that suggested to the Prince that the mirth was more ironic than humourous.

“It’s an Earth phrase, dear boy.”

_Okay, I’ll kill him next time, I want to know what this means._

“It means he cheated on her.”

Vegeta knew precisely what cheating was but could not see how such a thing would apply to what he understood as the relationship between a mated pair on Earth, “I don’t understand. Scarface treated her unfairly in a competition?”

The doctor smiled sadly and reached out to pat Vegeta on the wrist on a patriarchal way. For once the young man didn’t flinch.

“I forget sometimes that you have only been with us such a short time, my lad. Yamcha sought out the intimate company of other women while he was in a committed relationship with Bulma,” he explained.

Vegeta’s hands contracted into fists. There was slightest scent of something like ozone and just the hint of a glow around his suddenly tense body.

Bulma’s father looked alarmed and he reached out to the Prince for the second time, “You must calm down!” he hissed through his teeth, “Remember what happened at Starbucks!”

It took a bit of effort but Vegeta lowered his ki, relaxed his hands. There was no point in being angry with the weakling, he’d already been killed once and Bulma was no longer with him. But anger was Vegeta’s factory setting and he was definitely blasting a hole in some part of Yamcha next time the fool was stupid enough to come near him.

Dr. Briefs had a moment of telepathy.

“No, you can’t kill him. Or even seriously damage him-“

_Damn, again!_

“- Bulma will never forgive you if you are responsible for killing Yamcha twice.”

Vegeta watched the man continue to pick from the plates on the table, joining him after a moment of consideration.

“What now, _Dr. Briefs?_ And how did you find me?” Vegeta asked, patience coming to an end with the restlessness he felt in his chest.

“We eat and then we go home, obviously, dear boy,” the doctor replied. He held up a dragon radar, turning it so Vegeta could see the display. There was the typical grid with a map of the immediate area over laid on top and a blinking beacon dead in the center, indicating that was the target. Dr. Briefs tapped the screen, “That is you.”

Vegeta took the radar and peered at it. He turned the dial on the top and the map zoomed in. It was indeed homing in on him, if his assessment of the topographic outline of the land was correct.

“How in the hell did you pull his off?” Vegeta cried, somewhat more loudly that he meant to. The waitress was staring again, a frown on her old, dusty pink lips.

“The concept was not very difficult,” Dr. Briefs lectured as though it were patently obvious and his student was obtuse, “Bulma built this to track the signature energy of the dragon balls. I re-programmed it to home in on ki instead.”

Vegeta was amazed. Brilliant humans really were one of a kind. It had taken Frieza’s lab techs years to come across the same tech this man has whipped up in a couple of hours.

He only had one remaining question.

“How did you know this signature was mine?”

Bulma’s father pulled the crepes across the table and smiled, “There’s no one within 500 miles who even registers next to you, dear boy.”

_Maybe I’ll kill him next week. Or maybe never. He did just give me permission to fuck his daughter._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I called it Internal Conflict for a reason. Love and desire, pride and dignity are complicated. Being in love is hard enough to make being in denial about it a test of determination. Just try the chapter...

Chapter 8

That, as it turned out was vastly easier said than done. Vegeta declined the offer of the good doctor to ride back to the Capsule Corp compound in the air car. He wanted to be alone with his twisting thoughts. He wanted the opportunity to chicken out and go back to his hidden hole in the wilderness, though of course, Vegeta did not acknowledge that as a reason.

He went into the air of his own accord, letting his body rise in the way that most natural for him. The air was cold and the night dark, hiding him from anyone who might have been looking up into the sky as he passed silently over the mostly sleeping world.

Quite deliberately Vegeta buried his ki, keeping his power level down as far as he could manage and still keep himself aloft. He balked for several minutes when the lights of the great house came into view.

_Fucking coward!_

That admonishment spurred him on. As it was meant to. Vegeta flew around the house to get his bearings and finally landed on the restored balcony outside Bulma’s chambers. The smells of construction and new paint assaulted his delicate Saiyan senses, making him hold a fist up to his nose in a gesture he never would have employed if anyone had been looking. But when he extended his senses, he was certain that there was no one inside.

Vegeta walked through the new French doors to the Woman’s room and stopped to look around. The place was changed. Gone where all the things he had destroyed as well as the lavender and white he had come to associate with Bulma in his imagination.

The room was re-born in shades of blue and black, regally tasteful in a way that appealed to him in a very nostalgic way. The focal point of the room was the round bed, huge and surrounded by concealing curtains on a raised dais under a domed skylight. There was a custom-made bed frame that made Vegeta stare in completive admiration for several seconds. The heavy metal framework was ornate, rising from the head and foot of the bed to meet in a peak over the center of the circle.

It was sensual in a medieval way that appealed to him. And being the man that he was, Vegeta could instantly see the various implications of such a structure. These supports would not be nearly as easy to rip from their moorings as the wooden posts that had constituted Bulma’s bed before she’d tied him to it with her silken cords. The prince smiled.

But the Woman was not here. She had obviously taken a different room while her own was being renovated. Vegeta closed his eyes and reached out to find her signature. It flowed over him, through him and he turned his head in that direction. He knew her particular flavour too well to be mistaken.

_Well, I wanted to get her back into bed… Doesn’t really matter which one._

The Prince walked back out onto the balcony and flew up just high enough to be out of sight from inside the house. He sensed Bulma’s fathers arrival and heard the older man enter the house; make his way to the rooms he shared with Panchii. He could have listened to the quiet conversation they instantly engaged in if he had felt so inclined, but Vegeta did not really want to know what those two oddballs would have to say to each other at that moment.

The blonde woman was mental and Vegeta knew it. But she was also unfailingly kind to him and was without doubt the greatest cook he had ever met. She came across as being a twit of unimaginable proportions. For all that that was true, Vegeta had the idea that she was keeping something back. As for Dr. Briefs, he was also holding back a depth that most people would not assume that he had under those glasses, rumpled lab coat and perpetual look of absentmindedness. Those two humans, Vegeta reminded himself, had spawned Bulma after all.

The Prince moved around the curve of the house until he was outside the windows of his own chamber. The glass was gently lit by the wavering light that told him the Woman had lit the candles. He could easily hear his own music floating out into the night. She was listening to a soothing violin concerto on the tablet.

_If she found my secret stash I’m going into hiding for good._

Vegeta pulled the neck of his t-shirt up over his lower face and tucked his arms behind his body to hide his skin, then descended to a spot where he could look inside. To his relief Bulma was not sitting at the low table tending to the sand garden. She was lying strangely on his bed, her feet on the pillows, on her stomach. Her head hung over the end of the bed and she was brushing her blue hair up and over her head in smooth strokes.

Vegeta froze in midair. The light from the candles played over her exposed skin like it was dancing with its own shadows. And of exposed skin, she was displaying quite a lot. Bulma wore nothing but a pair of pointless panties that were never-the-less tremendously sexy for all that they served to hide nothing at all. That was probably, Vegeta decided, the maddening reason for them. It was impossible that the scrap of lacy was protecting her against anything.

Her face was hidden by the fall of her hair. The rest of her petite and glorious form was there for him to see, very much more enhanced by the flickering fire lights than it was hidden. She bent her knees, drawing her feet together and pointing her toes, the muscles on her back and upper thighs flexing in a feminine way. From his angle Vegeta could see the luscious curve of her breast pressed against the bed, as well as the way that she pushed her hips into the comforter in time with the music.

_I should have stayed in the fucking ocean! Hello, cold water._

He wanted to blow a hole through the glass that separated him from her and ram her down hard into the soft mattress. To hold her underneath him, rip the lace off her body and bury himself in all those soft, warm folds and curves.

He wanted to use his ki to blast himself through the atmosphere fast enough to tear his skin from the bone. To get away from this place and this Woman.

The two courses of actions warred in his mind, allowing him to do nothing but hover in increasing agony.

_Can you say stalker?_

That was a motivational thought.

_I am a Prince, for fucks sake! Have some gods damned dignity!_

Vegeta couldn’t hold back the low growl that slipped out of his throat as he shot straight up. He had no direction in mind but could not stand to be a pathetic voyeur any longer. Without really thinking about it he landed soundlessly on the part of the roof where he often went to hide from the other people who lived there. Where he went to hide from the Woman.

He let his body slump down against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, holding himself still. There was a pressure that would become a massive problem pressing against the tight material of his jeans. No matter how he shifted, it would not ease, and it humiliated him with how weak it made him feel. His cheeks burned hot and his heart was beating far too fast. His thoughts were a mess.

_So much for dignity! Has any man in history ever been driven insane by his own dick? I could be setting records here._

The Woman was so close. So vulnerable and it would be so easy to go to her. But then what? Vegeta could not, would not, beg. No matter how much he might want her.  And he did want her. That much he could admit. But there was more to it than that and he would not admit to that. He simply didn’t know how. Nothing in his life had taught him how to deal with feelings like these. To defend himself, the proud Prince tried to pull himself back behind the icy walls he had spent a lifetime building for protection.

Vegeta was a very pragmatic being. No wasted effort. No movement that he ever made did not have a purpose. It was not his way to do anything that had no clear and usually logical reason behind it. There was a comfort in that sort of living. It required no emotional payment. And once a course of action had been decided upon, he would work toward it with a single-minded concentration that no other men, not even Kakarot, could hope to equal.

He had employed this philosophy in his quest to Ascend. He would nearly kill himself every day in the pursuit of his goal. When the Androids came, he would fight to the death to keep his given word to defend the Earth. Until then, he work go his level best to make sure that he was strong enough to win.  To his normally orderly mind, these where easy concepts to understand.

This desire for the Woman was not. She was not a planet to be conquered. She was not a goal to be attained or a thing that had to be acquired like the Dragon Balls on Namek. If it had a simple matter of lust, Vegeta knew he could have seduced her and sated the need. Once he’d spilled himself inside her the thirst would be quenched and the distraction would disappear. If only it were so simple.

But nothing about Bulma was simple. Vegeta could neither move forward nor bring himself to move away.

_What am I supposed to do with this? I’m going to end up rotting away on this roof because I can’t figure out anything else to do. Loser!_

Vegeta was tired. He leaned back, arms crossed and let his head fall down so that his chin rested on his chest. He crossed his feet in their odd fluffy socks and closed his eyes, wishing more than anything he had someone (anyone) to give him some advice on how to deal with his confusion.

If Vegeta had known how to give what he felt a definition, he would have realized that he was lonely.

>_>_>_

Bulma was enjoying the feeling of the brush moving through her hair. She had finally changed the sheets on Vegeta’s bed, but the not the pillow slips. His scent was still there if she buried her face in the softness. And just knowing that she was on _his_ bed was enough to give her a sense of comfort and closeness. She had begun to spend increasing amounts of private time in his room. It was sparse and stark and is was _his._ She liked the candles, spent time tending to the sand garden and developing an appreciation for the kind of music the Prince kept in his collection. It amused her to watch his movies.

Bulma was not a sappy woman. She was well aware of the fact that no man would ever indulge in the kind of behaviour that she found comfort in. Vegeta especially would probably think it was both idiotic and a blatant violation of his personal space. He would not understand why she wanted to be in his place, to touch his things, imagine that he was there with her in the depth of the night. They had only spent one night together and not even all of that. He would, she was sure, think she was being a silly human female.

Bulma listened to the sweeping waves of the stringed instruments that swelled out of the tablet on the table and moved her mostly naked body to the rhythm, letting the melody take her with it. He had remarkably sophisticated taste.

It was not only the night they had spent taking their frustrated lust out on each other in her bedroom that kept her coming back to his room. It was all the other times they had spent together and all that she had since allowed herself to come to terms with.

Bulma was not a timid person by any means but it was a jump for even her to try to wrap her head around the feeling she had for the proud, cold Saiyan Prince. She would never have imagined that he could be so passionate or so sensual. Of course, she had admired him for his beauty and was not above the occasional appraising leer when he insisted upon walking around mostly unclothed. But who could have ever thought that Vegeta was… playful.

Bulma rolled over and began to brush her blue locks the other way, back from her forehead.

_And what else? The sexiest man in the universe and the most mind-blowing fuck of all time?_

_Yes. He was._

_Go freaking figure!_

She dropped the brush and then bit her lip. It made her laugh a little to think that she now had to pick it up and put it back in the small tote bag she brought with her when she came to his room. He would not like her leaving her things all over his insanely orderly space. She put the thought aside and spread herself back out on the thick, white bedspread.

The musical score ended. It was too quiet in the room; she couldn’t stand it. Bulma got up, tossed her hairbrush back into the bag and went to the table. She picked up Vegeta’s tablet to scroll through the selections and find something to push the silence away. Her own tablet sat next to the sand garden where she’d left it and she noticed a small blinking green light on it’s dark face.

Her heart shot up into her throat and she nearly dropped the tablet she was holding. The tiny light was a passive alert from the security system. Nothing that would require her to take any action. It was just a background program she had set up to let her know when someone (namely Vegeta) took refuge in one of his regular spots to hide from her.

Her hands hook as she lifted the thing and swiped it open. A few simple touches and she had access to the cameras that filmed every square inch of the Capsule Corp compound. Bulma noticed that she was breathing fast enough to hyperventilate and with a concerted effort held her breath. She clicked on the camera feed devoted to the roof and zeroed in.

Nothing. The roof was as clean and barren as it was supposed to be. She made the camera pan around, looking for the thing that had set off the motion sensor. She nearly missed her target.

Vegeta was dressed all in black and sitting in the shadows with his dark head bowed. She would have missed him completely if not for the skin of his large biceps and forearms faintly shining in the smooth way his skin always seemed to gleam. He sat perfectly still,  legs extended, his form  a deeper shadow than those he had taken refuge among.

Bulma let out a sharp cry, tears coming to her eyes to join the choking sensation in her throat and the dizzy loss of equilibrium that came with the absolute realization that Prince Vegeta was indeed sitting on the roof of her home, somewhere above her head.

A thousand things went through her mind. She wanted to be angry at him for the way he had left her. She wanted to be outraged. To rant and rave and scream at him for the indignity and insult of abandoning her without a single word. She wanted to accuse him of using her. She wanted to slap him. Hurt him somehow so that he would feel a little of the pain he’d left her to deal with. She wanted to call him a misogynist and a hundred other words he would probably have to look up in a dictionary. She wanted to kill him. And to hell with getting dressed.

_Let the asshole of all Saiyans see what he ran out on! FUCKER!_

Bulma dropped the tablet and strode to the door. She threw it open and stalked out of the room, her face a mask of wild fury, fists balled at her sides. Her bare feet made no sound as she came up the cement stairs and out onto the starlit rooftop.

>_>_>_

Vegeta was by far tired enough to actually sleep exactly where he was. But he did not allow it. He was as still as though he were carved from granite, only his chest moving with his breath. He was concentrating on the Woman’s ki, letting himself sense it. It was, to him, phenomenally weak but also unmistakable. Just being near enough to her to taste it was a sort of pleasurable relief as well as a torture. She seemed to be at peace, her ki was placid. Then, all at once there was a spike in her signature. It was as though someone had poked him with something sharp and hot, drawing blood.

Vegeta’s head shot up and he stared around trying to figure out what sort of danger could have bypassed his extraordinary senses. There was nothing. No sounds, no scents, no strangeness of any kind. But the fluctuation in Bulma’s energy could not be a mistake. She must have harmed herself somehow.

The Prince sensed that she was moving, quickly and in his direction. He drew in his aura and it flared out around his body in a glowing golden halo. He had not the slightest idea what was going on but if there was some sort of threat, he would meet it head on.

Instead of an enemy, an almost naked Bulma appeared in the open doorway to the roof. She was wearing only the lacy panties he had seen her in on his bed and her hair was a crazy blue nimbus around her livid looking face. His eyes were acclimated to the darkness and he could see the blazing anger in her bright eyes.

_It is possible that I have never seen anyone exactly this pissed…_

The Woman’s small fists balled at her sides and she raised them as though she were going try to strike out at him. If anything, Bulma should have been the one on the roof glowing; she appeared to be that incensed.

Vegeta made the slight mistake of taking his eyes off of her for a second, craning his head to try and see behind her, still looking for the threat that he thought must have made her ki change so rapidly. In that moment Bulma flew at him, mouth open in a soundless scream of rage and hurt.

The Prince moved so fast that she could not see him. He caught her around the waist as she made to plow into him, using her own momentum to swing her in a circle and slam her body back against him own hard chest. Powerful hands locked around her elbows and drew them behind her, effectively stilling her upper half.

“Bastard!” she shrieked, kicking out with her bare feet and hitting the surprised Saiyan in the knees. Vegeta simply tensed himself and let her fight him, for all the good it didn’t do her. She may as well have been kicking an unimpressed and very immovable statue.

Vegeta held on to wild cat as best he could without hurting her delicate flesh. He opened his mouth to try and speak but at that moment Bulma jerked her head backward and slammed the crown of her skull into his face, hard. Vegeta grunted, tasting blood, and set her a little further away from himself.

_What the FUCK is going on?! Crazy ass…_

But she was speaking. Or rather screeching.

“Where the hell have you been, you dick? Running out on me like that! After what we did!” she continued to struggle, and he continued to try to stop her from hurting herself or trying to hurt him.

 “You fuck me, destroy my bedroom and then vanish into the night like the plot of some bad Lifetime movie! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!” She tossed her head and tried without any success to rip his confining arms away from her, “Let me go and fight like a man!”

That almost made him laugh, but he knew better and there really wasn’t anything funny about this at all. Vegeta pulled her harder against him and let go of her arms to wrap his own around her, tucking her head under his chin to keep her from butting him again. Her heavy breasts curved over his forearms, as warm and firm as an embrace. The way she squirmed made the Prince aware again of the fact that she was not wearing any sort of real clothing. And the fact that her very rounded bottom was gyrating energetically against a part of his body that rapidly growing harder.

_Yessss…Fight me Woman…_

No female in his existence had ever attacked Vegeta with the exception of the horrendous pink blob known as Dordoria and that mass of vomitus had had nothing like this effect on the young Prince. Obviously. He’d taken that opportunity to atomize his enemy. And even that had actually been more disgusting in practice than satisfying. Dordoria had been more gruesome in splattered pieces that she’d been in one. That urge to destroy did not extend to this weird situation.

Vegeta was, instead, very powerfully turned on. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen when he’d taken her father’s advice and returned to the compound, but this was better than anything he’d tried not to imagine. Her anger, her fearless manner and even her abusive screams reached into the Saiyan and touched the part of him that longed for an equal.

“Bulma.”

He intentionally lowered his voice to the point where she would have to quiet herself to hear him and tightened his grip on her bare form. Bulma was close to exhausting herself at that point, her momentary strength spent in her rage. But she was not yet ready to give in. So, he planted his feet and held her, thrusting his hips forward so that she could feel the effect she was having on him.

Bulma swung her head from side to side, her hair obscuring his vision and the sheen of sweat on her skin filling his nostrils. She pushed back against him and in doing so bared the place where he had marked her. Looking down at the healed claim had an instant effect on the Prince. He lowered his own head and opened his mouth against the mark, licking and sucking at the same time, tasting her again.

_Mine!_

>_>_>_

Pleasure. His mouth was on her skin. His tongue moving over the sensitive scar where he’d bitten her. In a cascade Bulma felt her body wake up to him. The hard expanse of his granite chest against her back and the confining bands of his arms around her torso were testament to the unbelievable strength of the man holding her. Though Vegeta was only a few inches taller than Bulma, he held her up far enough that she had to point her toes to touch the ground. Through the strands of her hair that covered her face she could see that he was encompassing both of them in a yellow light, pulsing with the pounding of his heart. He said her name again, low and hot against her neck, the sound drawn out with male lust. Her ass slide over his groin and she felt the swollen length of his cock all the way to her lower back.

Bulma’s mind went to war with her body. She was seething with anger and violence, but her mind rebelled.

She wanted to hit him. To hurt him. To make him suffer.

She wanted to touch him. To feel his mouth on her. To have him inside her.

_Fuck me or kill me…_

>_>_>_

The Woman in his arms went still. The small hands clawing at his forearms stopped and wrapped over the muscles, her head falling to the side to give him greater access to the place where his mouth touched her. Bulma arched her back, pressing her bottom firmly against the throbbing erection she had drawn from the Prince. She shuddered deliciously, her ki rising in intensity to match her passion.

“Stop fighting me, now,” Vegeta commanded, unlocking his hands from their grip on his own arms and cupping the heaving breasts that were so wonderfully available for a much-needed fondling. He pulled at her nipples and was rewarded with a loud moan and a further arching of her slender back.

_More…_

Vegeta nudged her legs apart with his knee and pressed his hips against the crack of her ass, rubbing himself into the split to the joy of them both. He sucked the mark on her neck into his mouth, tasting her desire for him on his tongue. With one finger he hooked the little garment that kept him from her body and started to pull it aside.

>_>_>_

“No!”

Bulma tore herself away from the Prince and spun around to face him. Vegeta stood like a black angel in the shadows, lit by his aura and his eyes locked on her face with such intensity that she felt her own cheeks flush an even deeper pink.

“You don’t get to just show up here and pretend like you didn’t treat me like a toy to be tossed aside the moment you were done with me, you ass monkey!” Bulma yelled, covering her bare chest with both arms. “I let you…we…and then you just break my house and leave me laying there alone!”

Vegeta dropped his hands to his side and straightened up, watching her but he didn’t say anything. His apparent lack of response spurred her anger to return in full force.

Conflicted, Bulma chose to be pissed off again. She took a step forward and slammed her open palm into Vegeta’s cheek. It did not occur to her at the time that the way his head whipped to the side was a matter of choice for him. He reached up and pushed his hair out of his face, but otherwise did not show that she had hurt him at all. It was only his eyes that, had she looked, lost a little of their glitter. She hit him again. And again.

“If it makes you feel better, Woman, go ahead. But you will hurt yourself before you can hurt me,” he said in a level tone, not moving to protect himself in any way. Instead, the dark Prince lowered his eyes to the ground and opened his hands at his sides. Bulma shoved the Prince, both wrists feeling the futility of trying to move him.

_Jack ass! You could at least pretend…Give me a crowbar or a baseball bat! A canon! A Bazooka! Fuck it, I’ll build something that you WILL feel!_

“You hurt me!” she hissed, eyes darting around the barren roof for anything she could use to make him share  any part of her rage, “Didn’t you think about how it would make me feel when you blew through a wall to get away from me?”

Vegeta did look up at that. His hands moved as though to reach for her, but he didn’t touch her. Something she could only interpret as shame flitted across the chiseled features, his winged brows furrowing in a frown that reached down to make his mouth a flat line.

“I hurt you.”

Bulma thought the look on her face must have showed her confusion, because Vegeta did reach out and brushed his calloused fingertips over the mark on her neck.

“I made you bleed.”

“Oh!” she breathed at the touch, her own hand coming up rest on top of his, holding it in place. Understanding bloomed. Bulma softened, the betrayed rage giving way to a new insight.

She had never seen the proud warrior look so vulnerable. His face was a study in regret. Vegeta simply did not regret. He did not regret all the planets he had devastated, all the beings he had killed during his long career as an agent for Frieza. He’d had no choice, then. He’d changed since then. She could see in his handsome face. Vegeta felt _bad._

Bulma tried to twine her finger with the Princes’. He tugged his hand out from under hers and dropped his eyes to the floor again, his expression going smooth and impassive.

“Vegeta. Look at me.”

He didn’t.

“You gave me the greatest pleasure of my entire life, my Prince, that night. And then the greatest pain when you left me. Your leaving me was the only real pain I felt that night,” Bulma told him, taking a small step closer to the still figure.

“Then take it back, Lady,” Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, offered. His aura died away, leaving him in shadows and guilt, a beautiful angel without wings. He gracefully lowered himself down onto his spread knees and bowed his head, hands resting open on his thighs, “Do as you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off as a single chapter but it was too long, so I split it in what seemed to me a logical place. I tend to get carried away when I am writing. Unlike my working life, this is an task of fantasy and pleasure for me. Thank you to every person who read it and left a kudo and to those who left me comments and gave me the will to post it. I would have written it anyway but if I didn't have the kindness and thoughtful words from you I would probably have just stuffed it in my million page long file of stuff no one else will every read. To all the authors who write such enjoyable works, thank you, I love having this place to come to as a refuge for my very over active brain. When I started this I really didn't think it would go anywhere, or that anyone who bother to take time from their real lives to bother to spend time in mine. But you did and I thank you. So much. XOXO


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am rubbish with the summary section and if you've made it this far you don't need one anyway. Just for reference, the last chapter ended with our Prince on his knees. This one won't. To everyone who has stuck with me this far, thank you so very much. I hope you continue to like it. Please let me know if the quality has suffered or if your are bored to tears. Conversely, thank you for all the lovely comments, it is the highest compliment. Also thank you for the kudo's, that a very welcome email at 6 am. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. XOXO

Chapter 9

Her own state of undress was a forgotten thing while she looked at him. This immensely powerful man, Saiyan prince and warrior, humbled at her feet. Willingly subjugating himself before her as though she were his queen. Offering himself in this way, just to show her that she had power over him. It was his way of apologizing for something he never needed to say he was sorry for. His way of giving himself to her.

It was both immensely emotional and incredibly intimate. And as she looked at his bent head, his stillness; Bulma knew it was wrong. This glorious, terrifying warrior had been forced to bow to the lizard tyrant against his will in his youth and that had left a stain. That he would lower himself before her drew a dry sob from her throat that hurt like a ripping wound.

_Not like this. I want him, but not like this._

Bulma dropped to the ground in front of Vegeta. She took his head in her arms and drew him to her chest, trying with the simple embrace to say all the things roiling through her mind, spirit and body.

“I will never hurt you,” she whispered into his ear and pressed her lips against the side of his face. Vegeta moved his hands, placing them on her hips and resting his head against her body, a long sigh coming out of him along with the pent-up tension, uncertainty and shame. Bulma cradled his head, rubbing her face into the spiked mass of his soft hair. His fingers tightened on her and he took a deep breath.

“Vegeta…” Bulma murmured, loving the sound of his name. She kissed the part of him nearest to her lips, his ear. He started, a little spasm running the length of his body. Encouraged, Bulma nipped at his earlobe and then pressed the tip of her tongue into the tiny depression behind it. Vegeta purred deep in his chest, his hands gliding up to caress the dip of her waist.

Bulma ran her warm tongue along the curve behind the Prince’s ear to the seashell fold at the top. He trembled as though that was the most tender part of his whole body. She traced the cartridge down to the well of the tender canal and made a tiny circle there. Vegeta’s glow swelled in a burst and he made a sound that nearly scared her. On impulse, Bulma drew her breath in near the tender place.

“FUCK!” Vegeta exclaimed, his hands moulding themselves to the round of her ass and drawing her closer to him, almost onto his spread thighs. Bulma switched sides and gave his other ear the same attention, loving the way that his body vibrated in response. Loving how his hands squeezed her, heat coming off of his body in bright waves, rolling over her skin like summer sunlight.

He lifted his head enough to nuzzle her breast, taking the erect nipple into his mouth and applying suction hard enough to make her cry out. His tail came up over his shoulder and wrapped around her throat, pulling her back to the side of his head.

_So, the Prince has a weakness after all… And he’s willing to show it to me._

Bulma knew she’d found it when he pulled her up onto his lap and she felt the hard length pressed against her belly, his arms vice grips around her middle. Every caress of her tongue made him shiver and pull harder on her tits.

Bulma was panting, holding his head to her chest in unselfconscious need when she felt the pressure of Vegeta’s fingers against the triangle of lace that still covered her core. He drew his fingers over the plump lips and brought them to his mouth to taste her.

“You are very wet, Woman.”

She ran her hand over the erection against his tight abdomen.

“You are very hard, Prince.”

Vegeta smiled, a real grin that lit his face and made his black eyes glitter.

“Trust me?” he said, his tail unraveling from its hold on her neck and slipped around her waist. He didn’t give her time to answer. His arms came around her at the shoulders and the hips, along with the seatbelt of his tail and Vegeta lifted them both into the air.

The air pushed her hair flat her to head and she let out a small “Eeep” of shock when the ground under her fell away. Bulma grabbed onto the thick arms surrounding her with frantic elation, the sparkling sky filling her vision. She’d been carried through the air before by her Z-fighter friends, but it was nothing like the feeling of the Prince lifting her free of gravity with only the heat of his body to keep her grounded.

_This is befitting a Prince. Never on his knees but flying through the sky like a glowing, golden god._

>_>_>_

He’d given her the opportunity to hurt him. Whatever she had chosen to make of that moment, he would not have moved to defend himself. The fact that there was no way she could physically damage him, that was far from the point. The Prince of all Saiyans had knelt before the Woman, down on his knees with his royal head bowed in submission in a way he had never willingly done before. It was the only thing he could think of to show her, really prove to her, that he was putting himself at her mercy. Vegeta hadn’t been able to think of any words that would explain and he was done trying to stay away from her.

Vegeta had thought that his sin against her was physical. He had not understood that the harm he’d done was emotional, mental. He didn’t know how to rectify that kind of pain so he did the only thing he could think of.

He offered his own body as payment.  

Bulma had taken his gift. But not in pain. She had given him sweet touches, letting him touch her slender body as if she knew he would never hurt her, unless she asked him for it. And even then, he would only give her the kind of pain that became pleasure.

In the air, he held her tight and secure, loving the power of flight more than he had in a very long time. Her weight was nothing to him, but it was a welcome reminder of her living form in his arms. He set her down on the windowsill of his own bedroom, lowering the Woman to her feet just inside.

In the dancing light of the candles, she was a mouth-watering beauty surrounded by a blue cloud of floating hair and pale glowing skin. Her blue eyes shone in her face as she looked up at the air born Prince, raising her hand to beckon him to join her.

Vegeta stepped down into the room and into her waiting embrace. When she raised her face, he kissed her. From the moment that his lips made contact with hers Vegeta lost any hesitation he had left, which admittedly was not much at all. He’d wanted her too much for too long. She naked and willing and wet pressed against his body and he was _not_ willing to waste any more time.

Vegeta grabbed her and spun through midair; landing with her on top of him on the white bed. It knocked the breath out of her, but she didn’t seem to mind. Bulma leaned over him, taking his mouth in a smothering kiss that stole his own breath away. For countless moments they were a tangle of limbs, kissing and touching each other in every way they could and on every place they could find.

Vegeta rolled on top of Bulma and pressed himself down, wandering idiotically if it would hurt her if he just burned his clothes off so that his skin could be flush with hers. But Bulma took his head in her hands and pushed him back to look into his eyes.

“Why did you leave the way you did? Without so much as a word?” she asked, her face serious, eyes hooded. Vegeta lifted himself and held himself up on his arms, looking down at her. After a moment, he rolled off of her and sat up, pulling one knee up to his chest. He glanced at her lying beside him and buried his head in his arms in a curiously childish gesture.

_Why does she want me to say it? There’s no end of this, is there?_

He felt her put the flat of her hand on his back and begin to trace all the scars that crisscrossed his back. Vegeta stiffened and made a low sound of negation.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he said savagely. He held out his right hand and created a ki ball which he then held up for Bulma to see.

“If I lose my control around you for even one moment, I could kill you!” he snarled, crushing the light in his fist. “You are so small, so fragile, Bulma. So _human!_ And I.. I am this!”

Vegeta stood up, to his full height and tipped his head back to glare at her. His hair stood on end, a spiked crown over his widows’ peak. Black eyes reflected the light of the flaming candles which highlighted the planes and valleys of his incredibly sculpted body. His hands curled into fists and he bent his elbows, falling into a posture that brought to Bulma’s mind the way he moved when he was fighting. The feral growl that he alone could make rose in his throat and erupted into a primal cry that shook the cells of Bulma’s body, making her fall back from him. The aura that was the perfection of a Saiyan burst out and lit the room, drowning the light from the small candles. Flashes of yellow moved through his hair and similar shards of turquoise took their places in his eyes.

Vegeta drew himself tight, all the fibers of his form drawing inward and hardening. He kept Bulma’s gaze, opened his mouth and let out a sound that blew back her body and hair like a hurricane.

“I am a Saiyan!” he cried, pulling the energy from the very air around him.

>_>_>_

Bulma looked up at the man in front of her. His hair sparked with the golden fire that would send him over the edge into the realm of a Super Saiyan. His black eyes flickered with diamond faucets, as blue green as the eastern sea. He seemed to grow in size, the already defined muscles of his perfect body growing larger inside the pulsing glow of his aura.

Wind moved around him in a throbbing waves, seeking to push her away, just as the sound of his voice tried to make her run in fright. He lifted off the ground to hover above the floor, seething.

Bulma struggled to stand up and once she had gained her feet, pushed herself toward him. She fought the wind and the waves of alien force that blew off of him in golden gales.

Vegeta looked down at the Woman. He was showing her the truth of his nature, giving her the choice to run from him. It was what he expected. Instead, the naked woman fought into a standing position and then bent her head to push through the repulsion of his power to come toward him.

Her hair plastered itself to her skull and she had to wrap her arms around herself to try and protect her skin. But she didn’t stop. Vegeta felt his strength, the power flowing through his body like a different kind of blood. It filled him and he knew a moment where it was a choice. He could let it out, let it take control and explode out of him. It was playing under his skin, demanding to rip free.

It was elation. It was transcendent like love and rage and hunger and passion. It filled him as nothing ever had. All it asked of him was to give in to it and set it free.

_Yes! I can Ascend! Its right here…Right now!_

At the moment when he was ready to let go, Bulma touched him. Her fingers wrapped around his thigh and she pulled herself forward, her face upturned and wide eyed. The touched burned, feeling far tighter than she could possibly have gripped him. Vegeta looked down into the sweet face of the Woman holding him and faltered.

_I will never hurt you…_

She had said that. She had meant that. And then she had touched him in a way that made every fiber of his being vibrate with shocking pleasure. And she had done it after he’d caused her pain that went beyond the stinging bite he’d given her.

The transition to Super Saiyan was so close at that moment. He could feel it in his blood, burning like magma in his veins.

_But the Woman…_

She was too close. So close. He could see the pain he was already causing her. The heat coming from his body had made her skin turn red, her blue hair looked like it was about to tear right out of her head. She had hold of him but her face was drawn and she was struggling to hold on. She threw her other hand up to take place beside the first and locked it in place. The force coming off of him lifted her, the breakable human form losing its grip on the ground so that the only thing holding her close to him was her grip on him.

_It’s right here! I can have it! Finally!_

_But the Woman…_

There was so much pent up energy inside Vegeta. It filled him from his beginning to his end and all that it needed was for him to release it. It was like looking into a bright light, it infused his vision and took over his senses, drowning everything else out in the process. To take it meant he would have to let go of everything else.

Kakarot had attained Ascension in a moment of terrible pain and loss. Krillin had been murdered in cold blood right before his eyes. The innocence that made Goku who and what he was had been shattered in that moment and for the first time his rage had taken over every cell that he was made from. Vegeta knew this, Kakarot himself had tried to describe the moment. The poor third-class warrior had never felt such fury or anguish before in his gifted life. His fighting life had always, until that time, been full of adventure and victory, with no real pain ever being inflicted upon him. Seeing his childhood friend die by the hand of the monster Frieza had brought out an emotion that the Saiyan orphan had never known. Hatred. From that pain he had taken the power to change, to transition and to _become._

Vegeta knew hatred. It was a part of him. The thing he’d hated most had been vanquished by the same Saiyan who had reached the ascended level before him. Kakarot had beaten Frieza. He’d hated Kakarot for that. Wanted to destroy his rival for robbing him of his long sought revenge. Still did, in a manner of speaking.

It was not hate that would drive Vegeta to Ascend. Looking down at the pale woman, he knew that. Yes, it would take a great deal of emotion. Something felt so deeply that it would change his very aspect. But not hate.

Hate was too common now and he’d known it for too long. His key would have to open a different lock and he was not willing to go through that door just yet. Vegeta let his ki fade and his body descend back down to the ground. His hair and eyes lost the bright highlights as he allowed the power to bleed out from him.

_I understand._

Vegeta closed his eyes and let his body fall slowly back to the floor. Bulma released his thigh but did not move away from him, her hands cupping his face and trying to raise it to make him look at her.

_It’s a choice. There is always a choice._

Vegeta allowed the Woman to lift his face, to kiss him softly. He made his choice. For now.

Feeling the Prince give in to her, Bulma made short work of the button fly on the black jeans and pushed them down Vegeta’s slender hips. He made a fetching shimmy that ended with the garment in a puddle around his feet, out of which he stepped losing the fuzzy socks in the process. Bulma was easy to lift off the floor and she nimbly wrapped her legs around Vegeta’s waist. Her quick hands pushed his shirt up and over his head, leaving him as bare as an egg against her.

For his part, Vegeta snapped the thin lace that covered the hot place called him to fill it and pressed Bulma up against the wall beside the window.

Bulma pulled herself up, holding onto his shoulders and Vegeta lifted her to wedge his cock into the juicy crack between her legs. With one fist braced against the wall, Vegeta held Bulma with the other and drove upwards into her with enough force to make her scream. Once unleashed, his primal need could not be held back. Bulma held on as though her life depended on it, riding the violence of his penetration and crying out for more.

_I am going to break her. Again._

Vegeta relaxed his hold enough to give the Woman a deep breath and eased the force of his thrusts until her voice softened into moans of pleasure that didn’t threaten to shatter the windows. It took concentration to reign in his natural strength but as he moved Vegeta realized this had a rather unexpected advantage. Though he would have dearly loved to be able to pound the Woman through the wall at her back, being mindful of his every movement took an amount of the edge off his lust. There was no doubt in his mind that left to his own frantic pace he would have come almost immediately, so long has he denied himself release. Now, he would draw it out and make it last. For both of them. His tail twinned around Bulma’s crossed ankles behind his and he turned them both so that his own shoulders were pressed against the cool wall.

Vegeta bent his knees slightly and used the power of his arms to bounce Bulma roughly up and down on the muscles of his thighs. This position made him growl with satisfaction at the depth and completion with which it allowed him to take her. Bulma arched her back and offered her ample bosom up to the Prince, her fingers digging into the flesh of his upper arms. Looking down between their bodies, Vegeta’s gaze locked onto the thickness of his own engorged cock pumping into the blue triangle of his Woman’s welcome, slick and shining with her wetness.

His tail twisted around her waist and he let go of her ass to turn the attention of his hands to her breasts, bouncing enticingly in front of him. Without taking his eyes off the place where he thrust himself into her body, he plucked at her nipples, intensely aroused by the sight of himself fucking her between the hills of her bosom.

“Vegeta,” she murmured, opening her eyes to watch him play with her, “Ah, Vegeta, yes…” She bent her head forward, her hair brushing his face while she followed his gaze to the place their two bodies joined. Bulma tightened her legs around him and ground down, forcing him deeper still. Vegeta felt her stretch inside to take his considerable length and swallowed the cry that she made against his mouth at that most desirable pain. She was close, he could feel the beginnings of the tremors that would bring her to climax.

Vegeta stood straight and walked the few steps back the bed. He lowered the Woman without giving up the warm sheath and rested his weight on top of her, the tip of his tail around her dipping down to swipe at her pulsing clitoris.

“Fuck me! Hard!” Bulma demanded, spreading her legs wide. Vegeta backed off justenough to flip her legs up and over both his shoulders, bending her nearly in half and changing the angle of his invasion in a way that tightened the textured inside of her already snug, little pocket. His tail tortured her as he pounded down, enthralled with how deeply he could feel himself within her.

Suddenly, the bottom fell out of his fragile control. Bulma’s hands were in his hair again and she’d drawn his head down to her. Vegeta had thought to kiss her but Bulma turned her head at the last moment and pressed his mouth to the double crescent mark.

Heat burned its way from the center of his body out to the surface like an explosion, making him draw back from her skin. Vegeta froze, fighting his instincts hard enough to make him shake with the effort to stay still. Bulma had no such conflict, however. She turned to look at him, writhing under him in wanton abandon.

“Don’t hold back, Vegeta,” she hummed, “Never hold back with me.”

Eyes closed, the Prince did not let himself move a single muscle, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

_Oh, YES, I do… I want your screams in my ears and the taste of your blood in my mouth._

>_>_>_

Bulma jerked her hips up to envelope the Prince, who seemed to have turned himself to stone. She could feel his heart beating in the rock-hard shaft inside her, in the solid expanse of his chest pressed to hers. She wanted what he wanted if he needed it that badly and she knew exactly what he _needed_ at that moment.

“Yes, you do,” she whispered, looking up at the outrageously handsome face, eyes closed above her. His didn’t move, but his tongue darted out to lick at his lips, the pink tip sexier than anything so small had any right to be.

Bulma pulled Vegeta back down and lifted her upper body until his lips where open against the mark. He was trembling, breathing hard and fast, his skin as hot as a fatal fever. His hips flexed hard, pinning her pelvis to the bed; deep enough to hurt perfectly. Bulma let the feeling course through her, the orgasm starting low in her belly and igniting a firestorm.

“ _Bite me.”_

Vegeta let out a sound that both a snarl and a cry for mercy, feeling her convulsing under and around him. The skin of her neck tasted like salt and sweetness and when she tilted her head back to bare it to him, Vegeta’s own climax came up like a wave to drown him. But he did not follow the insanity.

The Prince rolled his hips in a slow, gentle way the gave his body permission to come languidly, drawing out the pleasure for them both. He opened his mouth wider and sealed his lips to her, the sharp canine teeth going in just enough to break the skin. Bulma moaned, pulling him tighter to her, riding the pulsing ejaculations that filled her with silky fluid as well as the suction that drew the coppery, rich blood from the area of her trapezius.

It was as though time stopped, leaving them in a limbo that included no one and nothing else. Bulma held on to Vegeta, loving him with her whole being, body and mind. He took her to heights that didn’t seem compatible with life but were at the same time the only things in the world that mattered in those ageless moments.

She was aware of the moment that he released her and licked at the strange sting of his bite. That artful tongue took the pain out of the hot spots where his teeth pierced. He did not stop the movement of his hips either, grinding the tip of his tail against her clit until another, more gentle orgasm rose up from inside her and washed over her.

Bulma turned her head and kissed Vegeta, drawing his tongue into her own mouth so she could taste the red blood. The kiss was deep and sensual, an echo of the motion of their bodies.

“Vegeta, stop…I can’t take anymore,” Bulma murmured, as the second orgasm receded, leaving her so over stimulated that she felt raw.

But the Prince did not withdraw. He lowered himself until he was flush on top of her and then let her legs down from their position over his shoulders. Bulma lowered them until they were mercifully flat on the bed, open just enough to keep Vegeta inside her.

_How can he still be hard? Alien or not, this has to be a super power._

Vegeta trailed little kisses over her jaw and throat, one hand massaging a breast and his ever busy tail running up and down her sides to touch the ticklish places there. He made little grunting sounds that made Bulma smile.

Inside her, the hard length of the Prince moved and Bulma gasped. She felt him breathe a smile and then deliberately do it again. His cock flexed, pressing upward against the walls of her vagina and when he moved his hips in the small circles he seemed to favour the sensation caused Bulma to claw red lines into his scarred and magnificent back.

Vegeta hissed. He pressed his mouth back to the mark and suckled at it, drawing forth a few more precious drops of blood and giving Bulma another indescribable jolt of pleasure. She cried brokenly, but made no move to push him away. Instead, she tightened her well around him, letting  him bring her to another, even more gentle orgasm.

Bulma has never known the marathon pleasure of multiple orgasms, never having had a lover willing to take the time to draw that potential out of her. Vegeta did not know that there was a limit to how much she could take, never having tried to prolong the pleasure of his partner beyond his own, thus not knowing how much of an ego trip it could be until he felt her reach peak after peak underneath him.

Bulma was insensible by the time she felt him finally relax inside of her. Vegeta kept her awake for a few moments longer, going to the bathing chamber to retrieve a warm, damp cloth to clean them both of the sticky residue that would make sleeping uncomfortable. That done, she gratefully curled into his embrace and drifted away in a cloud of completion.

>_>_>_

Vegeta slept like the dead, his exertions earning him a dreamless, restful vacation from reality. He woke to the bright light of day that told him it was late afternoon and a loud rumble that drew his attention to the starving hole that seemed to have taken the place of his stomach.

He could not move, though, as the Woman was tucked into his chest like a squirrel in a tree during the winter. Her scent rose to fill his head with memories of the night, making him bury his face in her azure hair. He looked down at the spot where he’d bitten her and was rather relieved to see that the bruising was only a light purple accented by the two red dots. That was a short-lived feeling.

_Monster._

He waited for the guilt. The shame. He put his nose back in her hair and waited some more. Neither of those demons came for him. It made no sense. Bulma was anything but a stupid woman. She would not cuddle up to a villain in the way that she was trustingly asleep next to him. It was obvious that she did not fear him. Nor did she seek to avoid the odd proclivity that turned him into an unambitious vampire when he was fucking her.

_She invites it. I don’t understand any of this shit._

Vegeta was still, ignoring the grinding hunger, thinking. More than anything, at that moment, he wished there was another Saiyan he could talk to. Someone to explain. For the first time in a very long time, Vegeta wished he had a parent. He couldn’t understand the reason behind the desire to taste her blood. At no time before, even when he’d been eyeball deep in the carnage of planet wide murder had he ever had the slightest desire to have anything to do with blood. It sickened him when he found himself covered in it and had led to vigorous and frequent washings, but that was about it. Nor had he ever been interested biting a sexual partner before.

Everything about Bulma was different. He had never kissed a female on the mouth until she showed him how under the tree in the garden. He’d never really cared all that much if the female he was taking his lust of on enjoyed it, trusting that his partners would look after their own fulfillment, taking from him as he took from them.

No one’s scent appealed to him as the Woman’s did. Looking down at the blue head tucked against his chest Vegeta realized he had never slept like this before. The closest to this kind of comfort he could remember would be as a youth with Nappa and Raditz, huddled together for warmth on some kami-forsaken dirt clod out in space or aboard one of Frieza’s refrigerated ships trying not to freeze to death in their sleep.

That thought actually made Vegeta laugh a little.

_This little human woman smells much better than intergalactic dumpster fires that were Nappa and Raditz._

That made his laugh a lot.

>_>_>_

Bulma woke to the sound of deep male laughter and a steady vibration under her cheek. The usual momentary disorientation that she usually experienced upon waking was absent completely; she knew exactly where she was and who is was that had woken her with this rare and precious sound. Vegeta did not laugh. She had heard him make a sound that would be the evil cousin of the sound now emanating from him. That was a mocking and jeering sound Vegeta used to show derision for those he deemed worthy of his contempt.

This sound was soft and warm and invited anyone hearing it to join. Bulma smiled, unable to stop the upturn of her lips. Vegeta’s breath hitched but he did not exactly stop laughing. The Saiyan felt the change in her breathing and the livening of her musculature that told him the Woman had awoken.

“I did not mean to wake you.”

Bulma lifted herself onto an elbow and tossed her hair out of her face. The smile on her face widened to a grin.

_Great Prince, blushing like a teenage boy who just got to touch his first boob._

Vegeta’s face was indeed as red as a beet, though the expression was one of happiness, he was quite obviously embarrassed. Bulma couldn’t help herself, she laughed at him, kissing his heated cheeks to take the sting out it, knowing he would quickly loose patience if he thought she were insulting his pride.

“Is my hair that bad?” Bulma asked, talking around the desire to keep giggling like an idiot, “Or did I fart in my sleep?”

The stain on his cheeks deepened. He looked utterly shocked and horrified. He stared at her like her head had just grown another head, nose wrinkled like an offended aristocrat.

“Vulgar Woman!” he exclaimed, disgust dripping from the words. Vegeta drew his arms from around her and crossed them protectively over his chest, shielding himself from what he imagined to the polar opposite of everything feminine.

Bulma watched this bizarre transformation and the very look on his regal face touched the raunchy sense of humour that Bulma was born with. Having all male friends had given her a thick skin and a healthy tolerance for what most woman would recoil from.

_He’s offended. Prim, proper Prince can murder millions and still be afraid of things like farts. And worms. And germs…_

It was so inconsistent, so at odds with the unflappable demeanor he showed the rest of the world. It was so _human_.

Bulma sat up, still watching the play of expressions on his face. Her lips opened and she grinned one sided at him. Faster than he could move to stop her, Bulma lifted the coverings and through them over Vegeta’s head.

“Arrgghh!” he bellowed, knocking Bulma over backward as he shot out of the bed trying to escape imagined foulness and slid across the floor like a canon ball. Bulma was lost in the folds of the blankets, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face and she felt light-headed from the lack of air. She beat at bed clothes, trying to free herself and failing. Her legs stuck out ludicrously and she laughed all the harder at how ridiculous she knew she must look.

Abruptly, the blankets were pulled out from under and around her, dumping her in a disheveled heap, naked, in the center of the bed. Looking up through her blurring eyes, Bulma met the gaze of the Prince at the end of the bed, the covering in a pile at his feet. His face was still red and his tail whipped through the air behind him in slashing movements.

He looked furious, his chin tilted up in a manner so disapproving that Bulma stopped laughing.

“And here I was thinking to myself how much nicer you smell than Nappa and Raditz. Those two were about as evolved as less intelligent Saibamen and even they would never have said ‘fart’ in front of me.”

Bulma lifted up onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the Prince. His outraged indignation was hilarious and she was in the mood to play. She kept her eyes on his face, seeing his gaze dart down from her face to her breasts and then to the curve of her hips.

_Mmmmm. Gotcha!_

The blush spread from his cheeks to his throat becomingly. Bulma stopped at the edge of the bed and looked up through her hair at him. Vegeta dropped his arms, unsure how to deal with her behaviour. But she could see the effect she had on him.

“I’ve given offense to the esteemed Prince,” the Woman said coyly. She turned around, crossed her feet at the ankle and presented him with her generous and tender heart shaped backside.

“Bulma, what the fuck?” Vegeta started, staring at this with his lip between his teeth.

“Oh! Whose being vulgar now? I await my punishment, your Highness,” she replied, looking back at him over her shoulder and wiggling her bottom in invitation.

Vegeta appeared to struggle with himself. Bulma watched the thousand things that passed through his mind and saw the disturbed expression fade into one of exasperated amusement. She sighed, happy he had chosen to let go of his knee jerk reaction and play with her.

_Or maybe his body decided for him._

His body had certainly noticed the attractive sight offered to him. He came closer, one hand tracing the curve of her ass, his tail taking hold of her thigh.

_Fart jokes are apparently forgotten._

>_>_>_

Vegeta was lost in a fantasy that cut between pinking up that pretty ass and fucking it raw. He hadn’t decided which to do first when his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten since ‘Moon’s over my Hammy’ the night before. The sound was loud and very insistent, going on for far longer than it could have if the man had been human.

They looked at each other and simultaneously broke up into helpless laughter.

Bulma had followed Vegeta into the shower and they’d washed up, then she had offered to raid the kitchens for a feast suited to a Saiyan. Vegeta straightened the room, giving into his natural penchant for the orderly. He looked over his sand garden, quickly using the tiny rake to fix an inconsistent design that must have been Bulma’s attempt to create art. Then he checked the history on his tablet. The Woman seemed to like his music, so he hit play and finished tidying up, his tail keeping beat with the orchestral piece.

Vegeta sat on the plain white sofa and leaned back, uncharacteristically casual. He had not trained since before leaving his forest retreat and right at that moment didn’t care at all. That bothered him. He was hungry and that bothered him. The Woman had laughed at him, made him blush and then offered him a treasure. It was a kind of closeness that he had never allowed into his life. How much he wanted it, that he had come back to this house with the hope that she would welcome him just as she had, bothered him.

And sitting there, Vegeta could not remember ever feeling so content. It bothered him.

Bulma blew back into the room like a whirlwind of motion. She deposited the same basin Vegeta himself had used to bring food to her room before he’d left. He started to get up to set the food out in his particular way but Bulma put a bare foot on his chest and pushed him back down.

“I’ve got this,” she told him and leaned over to drop a kiss on his mouth. She had taken a skimpy sleeping outfit, a pair of tiny shorts and a camisole from a little suitcase she’d taken to keeping on the floor of his closet, he had to admit she looked very appealing. Freshly scrubbed and as nubile as a teenager.

She handed him a hot container filled with her mothers’ meatloaf, hot and enough for three grown men along with a separate container of steamed pork dumplings. He knew she was watching him out the corners of her eyes as he ate but without a clear idea of what to say, Vegeta kept his mouth steadily full and was silent.

_Humans talk too much!_

>_>_>_

_Well, this got mighty awkward, mighty freakin’ fast, didn’t it?_

They ate in silence, but the silence was full in a way that was not comfortable. Bulma watched the Prince eat and her agile mind whirled away at the speed of sound. By the time the food was gone and there was no longer an excuse to stay quiet, she had formulated a theory.

Bulma poured tea into two cups, handed him one and sat across from him, feet tucked under her. Vegeta appeared utterly as ease, gracefully splayed in the corner of the couch. Except for the tiny line between his eyebrows and tight little commas next to his lips. Bulma took a deep breath and in her usual blunt way, got straight the point.

“What’s bothering you?” she asked in a flat, analytical tone, certain that it would be easier for him to talk if she didn’t sound like an ‘emotional human woman’.

Vegeta stared into his tea for a long moment and then unfolded himself and walked to the windows, facing away from her. For a moment she thought he was going to blast a hole in the glass and vanish again. But the man didn’t move. He stood outlined like a perfect sculpture in the sunlight.

_I’ve never seen someone with such a way of being still._

_Or of being silent._

“Strange that you would ask that, right at this moment,” Vegeta replied after a while, “As it is currently you who is bothering me, Woman.” He turned around and leveled a dark gaze on her, eyes intent under the wings of his brows.

“Vegeta, you’re going to have to be candid. I can’t keep up with your mood swings anymore, they’re giving me whiplash. Just tell me.”

He began to stalk around the room like a tiger in a cage. He stopped numerous times and opened his mouth as though he had found the words he wanted, but each time he balked and resumed his pacing without saying anything.

“Vegeta?”

He stopped for the dozenth time and made a slashing motion through the air with his hand, a gesture of impatient frustration. Bulma’s patience was also wearing thin. She grabbed his hand and dragged him back to the sofa, pushing him back into the corner.

“Alright, my turn,” the Woman declared and sat herself down on his lap.

“What…?” he started but she cut him off by taking his tail in her hands and running the sable fur through her fingers. Vegeta closed his eyes, his lips relaxing. The effect of such caresses on his tail really were extraordinary. When his heart rate had slowed down to normal, Vegeta opened his eyes. The blue haired heiress settled herself comfortably and reaching over her head, pulled her thin shirt off.

“What…?” Vegeta tried again but lost his train of thought when Bulma pulled his hands up to cup her tits, leaning forward slightly to let the warm weights fill his palms.

Vegeta was gentle with her this time, just enjoying the way it made him feel to touch her. How good it felt to be touched.

_There is just so much to be said for being a genius with an awesome rack…_

“Now, can you talk to me? We are alone and no one will ever know what is said here. Trust me, Vegeta. Talk,” Bulma said softly, stroking his tail with long, firm motions. She had calculatingly put herself in a position of what Vegeta would see as vulnerable. He always felt much better when he was in control. His tail was a sensitive point on his body but when touched in the right way, the hormones it released put him at ease; gave him a comforting pleasure. And she knew that he was very partial to her breasts, not only did what he was doing feel amazing, but it was distracting him from whatever was keeping him from being able to express himself.

>_>_>_

_Clever girl._

Vegeta was fully aware of exactly what game Bulma was playing with him and he found that he appreciated both the strategy and the intuition of the blue-eyed woman on his lap. And it bothered him.

_I think I fucking hate feelings._

He closed his eyes and let her calm him. This needed to be done. Might as well do it now. Vegeta honestly couldn’t think of any conversation he had ever had in his life that took place under more pleasant circumstances.

“You are making me weak.”

Vegeta could not believe the words that fell out of his mouth. Could not believe there was no way to put them back. Could not believe how easy such an admission had come when he knew no one but the Woman would hear him.

Bulma paused in her stroking for a heartbeat but did not interrupt. Vegeta ran his thumbs over her nipples, thinking. He’d confessed to having a chink in his mental armour and his world had not exploded. He took a breath and looked up at her.

“I am afraid that I am going to hurt you,” he squeezed both breasts and drank in the resulting inhalation, “You are so _breakable_ , Bulma.”

The Woman lifted his tail to her face and ran the satin fur over her lips, smiling at the resultant sound he made, “I trust you, Vegeta.”

_Gods damn it._

“You shouldn’t. I know that you don’t really believe it, that you can’t really believe it but I have killed more people in my life than live on your whole planet and I felt nothing about any of them. Not a single one gave me the slightest pause or cost me a single night’s sleep.”

Bulma draped his tail over her shoulder and leaned forward, pressing herself to his chest, arms around his neck.

“I know about Frieza. You were raised by a nightmare,” Bulma murmured against his throat, stroking the back of his neck.

“I would have killed you along with the entire human race,” he went on, running his hands up and down her spine.

“You didn’t.” She kissed his jawline.

“Most of me still wants to end Kakarot.”

“Whatever gets you out of bed in the morning. Especially if working for that goal makes you tired enough to get back into it at night,” Bulma quipped lightly, stretching up to suck his earlobe, “With  me.”

Her words, meant to be flirtatious and inviting, broke the spell she had the Saiyan under.

“That is worst one of all, Bulma. I can’t concentrate of my training, I can’t concentrate on anything. You are an infection in my mind,” he said in a low, hard voice. Vegeta pushed Bulma back, holding her by the shoulders and glaring into her eyes. “For wanting you, to be with you; I am failing to Ascend.”

Bulma leaned away from Vegeta. For one long moment she was livid at the thought that he was blaming her for his not becoming a Super Saiyan. But her scientists mind played back the actual words and her anger drained away.

“There is nothing you could ever fail to do if your set your will to it, Vegeta,” Bulma said plainly, her conviction as naked as her torso, “No man that I have ever known has your focus. Not only that… you were born to Ascend.”

_This Woman is worth kneeling to._

Vegeta had to close his eyes and he turned his face away from the Woman. He felt her small hands run up his arms to rest against his chest. Vegeta drew her back to him, arms and tail holding her tightly. He tilted his face into her hair and let her scent fill him, soothe him.

“Say that again,” he asked in almost child- like voice, “please.”

“Prince, you were born to be a blonde.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its not complete but I had to stop somewhere. It will get, well, worse. There is too much of this story to let it slip through my fingers so I am trying to do justice to the plot by giving it the time that I think it deserves. Maybe a bit on the wordy side, which is why I cut the chapter short. I hope you like it. But hey, spoilers suck.
> 
> THIS ISN'T A SPOILER...its a bite, not a bonding. My Vegeta might have his pretty moments because I adore him, but he's still a Prince. A Saiyan Prince.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

Her words were a balm in Vegeta’s soul. Despite the attempted lightness in her way of putting it, it was precisely what he needed to hear. What he needed to believe. Vegeta put his hands on either side of her face and leaned his forehead against hers in a silent communion. So much of his life had been spent in sadness and disappointment. So much loneliness. In his mind the Prince felt that it defined him.

Prince Vegeta was born with the highest power level in recorded Saiyan history. His father had trained him during the first six years of his life to be a warrior and a ruler. He had lived in a palace, in luxury and privilege knowing that one day he would be the king of a great and proud race, the treasured son of a king. He’d never felt truly loved or coddled but without anything to compare his early childhood to he had enjoyed it.

And then the day had come when Frieza appeared in the court and Vegeta had seen his own father, the king, bow to the ugly, white lizard. He could remember the way he’d felt, hiding in a corner and thinking that he would see his father put the alien creature in its place. Instead, the king had knelt at it’s creepy three toed feet and promised to give up his eldest son. Vegeta had run away at the time, hidden in the kitchens until the royal guard had ferreted him out like a criminal, physically dragging him away from the maid servants who had tried to conceal the little prince in the pantry.

‘Little Prince’. That had been Frieza’s favourite nickname for the scared and defiant child. But the lizard had seen the potential that Vegeta held and had acted accordingly. Nappa and Raditz had been taken at the same time to be his companions and he’d been vigorously trained to lead legions of the aliens that composed Frieza’s armies.

Vegeta had tried all of his adult life to put those memories into a box in his mind, locked up tight enough to almost forget. Vegeta did not have the kind of scientific mind that he so valued in Bulma, but his intelligence could not be disputed. His orderly, keen mind could not forget a single second of the deprivation, harshness, suffering and violence that defined his upbringing in Frieza’s service.

The lizard and his lieutenants had taken every opportunity to undermine Vegeta’s self-confidence. A fallen prince without a planet, a forgotten orphan without a father, a little boy without any real way to defend himself against the stronger opponents that were ritualistically pitted against him.

He’d had no idea at the time that the tyrant was afraid of him. Of what he could become if allowed to thrive. But he had figured it out. And that had hurt him. His father had failed to protect him, leaving him to his own devices when he was the most vulnerable. Vegeta was a very young adult when he realized that Frieza was intentionally holding him back.

He’d begun to train himself in secret then. Nappa and Raditz were sent with on most missions to not only aid him in his wanton destruction but also to report back the lizard on his progress. The fact that Nappa would teach him nothing that would really make him stronger was the first clue and it just snowballed from there. In private, Vegeta began to try his Saiyan nature, exploring his own power in preparation for the day when he would be strong enough to challenge his adopted master.

It galled him that he had never gotten that chance. He had not had enough time, had not reached the level that he needed to win in a fight against the thing that had menaced him for the majority of his life.

Instead, Frieza had killed him. _Killed him._ The scar over his heart still caused him pain, though he knew it to be a phantom of the true feeling that came from being shot through the chest by a bolt of energy from his greatest enemy.

Kakarot had finished Frieza and that was something that would bleed in Vegeta’s mind until the day he died again. The other Saiyan had not only robbed the Prince of his revenge but achieved Ascension before him. It was all too much for the pride that Vegeta used to hold himself up. There was nothing worse in existence than being a failure.

The only two companions he’s ever had in his youth had proven themselves to unworthy of him. Raditz had been killed by Kakarot (fucking Kakarot again, damn him) and though it had cost the third class baka his own life, Vegeta respected the conviction it had taken for his fellow Saiyan to take part in the death of his own brother. Vegeta himself had ended Nappa without a second thought, feeling nothing but contempt for the moron who had the nerve to beg for his own worthless life.

Sitting in this white room with the affectionate human Woman was the first time since leaving his former companions behind that Vegeta felt anything for another living soul. And she pressed herself against his battle-hardened body in such a trusting way, giving him a closeness he’d never had in his life.

Vegeta pushed her back and pressed his lips against hers. Bulma opened her mouth and sought entrance into his. This little Earthling doing battle in her own way. But she didn’t seek to damage him. Instead, she gave him words that shored him up against his own doubt. She gave him the succor of her body and warmth of her embrace, the fire of her temper and the stimulation of her mind.

Vegeta let himself drown in the way she kissed him. His tail trailed up and down the dip in the center of her back. She was an island in a dark sea.

>_>_>_

Bulma tipped her face up and found the pink lips waiting for her. Kissing Vegeta was an experience that defied anything in her experience. He was not a passive participant, but he gave himself up to it and let _her_ kiss _him_. His lips were soft and the way his tongue moved in her mouth made her think of the way unique way he kissed her lower parts when he went down between her legs to give her pleasure.

Bulma had watched the Prince’s thoughts flitter across his handsome face and it felt like a fist in her heart. She was a fixer. Anything that she came across that was broken gave her the need to find out how it worked and put it back together. Yamcha had been like that. He’d been a pirate when she’d met him, seemingly the coolest of possible boyfriends. But after getting to know him a little better, Bulma had discovered that Yamcha was terrified of girls. He’d been such a mess that anytime she came near to him he would freeze up and turn red enough in the face to make her fear for his health. She had spent the time it took to help him get over it and had stayed with him for over a decade. Fixing him.

She had done such an awesome job of that that in the fullness of their time together, Yamcha had found the courage to cheat on her with numerous other women. It wasn’t until the Saiyan Prince had come to stay at her house and live in her life that Bulma had found the reason in her own spirit to dump the jackass and give up on a future with the ex-pirate.

Vegeta was a thousand times more damaged than Yamcha. He opened her heart to the instinct she’d always had to mend broken wings in a much more intense way. She just hadn’t seen that in herself until Vegeta had demolished most a wall to get away from her.

After that she had asked herself why this man affected the way that he did. She had explored the possibly that he had just used her body to sate his momentary desire and would not return all. Bulma knew that Vegeta was quite fond of his GR but that he could also train without it. After all, Goku had Ascended without the aid of the thing.

In the end, after all the thoughts had kept her from sleep from for several nights, Bulma had come to the conclusion that it was the dark Prince who needed something, or someone, to fill the void inside him. Moreover, that she wanted to see if she was the one who could do that for him. And if the acerbic, violent, asshole Prince could be the person to finally accept the kind of woman she was and fill the hole in her heart. Her intense attraction to him had started it, his way of dealing with her demanding personality kept it going and the pain he was giving into her keeping now locked it into place in her heart.

Bulma had not felt the kind of emptiness that Vegeta left (like the hole in her bedroom window) after she and Yamcha had parted ways. Her body had not yeaned for him the way it had for the roughness of the Prince. Black eyes, glittering and narrowed, haunted her dreams and Bulma was never one to deny what she wanted. His forehead pressed against her and then his lips seeking to kiss was permission enough. She kissed him back, taking control and crawling up onto his lap. Vegeta’s tail swept up her back and wrapped around her throat, the tip moving back and forth under her chin. She gave a little gasp at the feeling of strong hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her against a chest that felt like hot stone. But he didn’t assert himself as she kissed him. Bulma explored his mouth with her tongue, tasting him, feeling the power that he was giving her over him.

It was intoxicating and addictive. He was.

_This man is my personal drug._

>_>_>_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To BV4Ever and Vegefan, you are the such wonderful people for the words of encouragement. I'm sorry that I didn't write back, I am really terrible with people who praise me. Very shy. I know you don't believe it by the nature of what I write but its true. I do love and treasure ever word you wrote to me and I look at them every time I come to a point where I lose my way.  
> Thank you, Darkkiness.You get it. But I'm still not going to take the way out that too many writers go with Frieza. I'm still not desperate or sick and I love my 'Geta too much to do that to him. He would never live through it.  
> MrsYuuwaku, thank you for letting me put my words into the way I wanted; you see what I wrote and the world I made, if that makes sense. Please be patient, I have plans for these two, a little bi-play in the world they already live in.
> 
> BV4ever and VegeFan... A million miles of I love you for everything you said. It really means so much to know that someone in the real world enjoys the one I created. XOXO


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few thousand more words. The augmentation for Ch.10. And here comes Kakarot, Son Goku.

Vegeta left his chamber before dawn the next morning. He hadn’t slept well, the presence of the Woman beside him had been too distracting. He’d listened to her breathe, felt the warmth of her body beside him. Instead of taking her again, as he knew she expected, he’d kissed her until she’d tried to get in his pants and make him give her what she wanted. Her scent had been so strong, her wetness hot on his lap. Everything in him had demanded that he let her finish what she was trying to do and climb on top of him. But he had denied them both, tucking her down in the rumpled bed beside him and holding her. He wasn’t exactly certain why. He’d needed a moment.

When she, true to her nature, tried to talk, Vegeta had sealed a palm over her mouth to shut her up. He didn’t think he could deal with anymore words right then. And he definitely didn’t want to hear himself say any of the things bouncing around in his own brain. Bulma seemed to understand his desire for silence and she had finally drifted off to sleep with her back pressed against his chest and her hands curled around his fist.

The Prince watched the sky until it changed in that imperceivably subtle way the sky has when the sun is nearing the horizon. He’d extricated himself from Bulma carefully so as not to wake her the moment the sky looked less black than true night. Without making a single sound, he’d dressed in his armour and left the room, heading for the GR and only stopping to snatch a pile of cold leftovers from the refrigerator on his way.

Once the food was safely inside him, Vegeta cranked the GR up to 400x gravity and began the graceful katas that would center his mind for the torture he intended to put himself through later in the morning. He let go of all thoughts beyond the feeling of being in his own body. He worked through the familiar motions over and over until he was nothing but muscle and bone, an empty vessel waiting to be filled with his own power.

There was only a momentary delay in his routine when he decided to up the gravity to 450x, then he did the entire thing again, enjoying the  increased strain. Vegeta smiled at the bots when they dutifully rose into the air at his command, ready to take the challenge of both fighting them and not destroying them. They attacked ferociously, as programmed by Bulma.

_Woman’s got a bit of an evil streak in her._

His little minions blasted him with laser strikes designed to inflict maximum damage but after a time Vegeta noticed something was off about them. It took him a minute to figure it out and then he frowned, intentionally allowing them to come closer than he normally would have to watch them.

They moved in concert, attacking as a team with the usual intensity but their speed was off.

_It’s the gravity. They aren’t built for 450x. I’ll have to get Bulma to fix that…_

Her face flashed through his mind. Her rich scent and her taste. A double attack caught him the small of the back, just below the rim of his armour and far too close to the base of his tail.

_Fucking Woman!_

The Prince slammed his fist into the nearest bot, which sent the thing flying into the rounded wall of the GR. It exploded, showering him with shrapnel, which he neglected to notice due to the fact that he was busy demolishing another of his pets.

_Bulma is going to be pissed…_

All at once, Vegeta went absolutely still. The bots paused, this was not a part of their expected interaction with the warrior and it took them a moment to adjust. Vegeta didn’t see them swirling around him, his mind was full of the Woman. Her touch, her voice, the time he’d spent buried in her body.

Distracted, the Prince missed the formation that massed around him. Vegeta took a strike to the chest that spun him around and dented his armour. The glowing chi that would have protected him faltered; his mind too overcome with memories to respond fast enough.

“Damn it!” Vegeta cursed, clenching his fists and flying higher to escape the barrage of laser fire that the canny bots loosed at him. They attacked from below, slamming him into the ceiling and then catching him when he ricocheted back downward. A stunning couple of hits knocked the wind out of him, dimming his aura even further. He sent ki blasts at the nearest of the bots, taking two of them out of commission but opening himself up to two more that fired at him from behind, hitting him the back of the head. It was starting to truly make him angry. It gave him what he needed.

Stars floated around the edges of his sight, making things blurry but the Prince rallied and pulled his chi in with an act of sheer will. His golden aura flashed as bright as a newborn star, his dark form barely visible at it’s center. Vegeta gloried in the power coursing through his body, mouth open in a primitive scream. It was too big to contain, and he didn’t try. The bots attacked with a fury that would have reduced any other man to ash, laser bolts as thick as a swarm of bees in the heavy air of the powerful GR. What they lacked in speed they more than made up for in intensity and single-minded robotic focus.

Vegeta felt the blows against the shield of his aura, heard the deafening cacophony as the blasts bounced off of him and hit the walls, some of the bots even taking fire from their own companions. He ignored all of it; the alien concentration of a Saiyan warrior pulling energy from the GR, from the air, from the bots and from the planet itself to add to the sum of his own power. Vegeta felt it pull at the roots of his hair, embraced the pain of it sparking in his eyes and burning through his veins.

_Ascension!_

The programming of the battle bots was designed to adapt to the Prince’s responses to their attacks and the AI upped its game, activating the laser guns that formed a ring around the room near the floor. They emerged from ports in the walls like so many canons on a battleship. In tandem they discharged a punishing barrage from every angle, adding their terrible addition to the already blinding strikes of the airborne bots.

“Come on, you Bastards! Bring it!” Vegeta screamed, taking himself higher and hotter. He didn’t care when his royal blue sub-armour shredded from the force of the power coming off his very skin, or when the canons joined the fight. He looked down at his gloved fists, marveling at the yellow fire that surrounded them.

All at once, Vegeta went into action. He channeled his power into his hands, spreading his arms wide, palms out in offense. Snarling in exaltation and triumph, his own blasts of ki adding to the cosmic display of light that blinded him. He sensed the bots and the guns, aiming for them without the need to see. The earthquake sound of destruction was all he needed to know that his counter attacks found their marks and hit with potential to level even this nearly unbreakable machine. It was the moment he’d waited and worked and suffered for.

_Becoming._

And then the GR went dark. The bots fell to the floor and the guns dropped their heads. It happened so fast that Vegeta did not have time to pull his own ki back. His blasts crashed into the walls and were deflected back directly toward him. They slammed into him with the collective force of a Saiyan army, stunning him. Vegeta felt the burning bolts sizzle and cook his skin, hammering him with their unexpected assault. In the chamber lit now only by his own aura and the explosions of his own making, the Prince spun out of control. It would take several minutes for the gravity component of the GR to power down and so he was left dazed and injured, his body crushed to the floor in the excess of 400x Earths gravity. His glow, so incredibly bright only a moment before, dimmed and died away, only an afterthought in the inky blackness.

Vegeta laid on his back, the air pressed out his lungs, not so much by the GR as by his own crushing sense of defeat. He could feel the gravity slacking as the machine whirred more and more slowly but he did not even try to move.

_I was so close. I was right there. It was in the palm of my hand and I lost it. Again. I’m not a fallen prince, I’m a failed pauper. A disgrace to my race. Unworthy to be a Super Saiyan. Unworthy to call myself a man. Unworthy of anything._

He swallowed around the waves of nausea that threatened to send what remained of his breakfast up and out of his rolling stomach. Vegeta turned onto his stomach and buried his face against his crossed forearms, seeking to hide his shame even from himself and failed agai. This time to stop the hot tears that ran down over his skin to pool on the floor underneath him.

>_>_>_

Bulma sat in the control room watching the Prince on the view screen, a cup of hot, black coffee in her hands. She’d felt a momentary disappointment when she’d come awake to find herself alone in the messy bed, the lingering scent all that remained of the Prince. The feeling had dissipated when she activated the security system and found him in the GR. Unable to pull herself away from the unintended show the beautiful Saiyan was putting on, Bulma had tucked herself into her chair and simply watched him go through the katas that she knew were the beginnings of the way he trained himself every day.

Alone, Bulma didn’t have to hide the admiration with which she watched the man move. The positions he twisted himself into looked impossibly hard but he did it with a fluidity that no human could have hoped for. When he went down to do his floor exercises she felt herself get a little hot under the collar watching the way the muscles bulged. It didn’t help that Vegeta did push-ups in a way that looked like he was fucking the floor of the GR. His body stayed plank stiff with just the tips of his fingers and toes to support himself as he rose and fell against the floor. He turned, planted the soles of his feet on the floor to do his sit-ups, using only the strength of his abdominals to curl upright. Even in 400x gravity Vegeta didn’t so much as wobble while he put himself through the grueling 500 presses, balanced upside down on only the index finger of his strong right hand.

Bulma was on her third cup of coffee by the time Vegeta relaxed onto his back and rested for a few minutes, his breath slow and even despite the vigorous paces he’d just completed. Bulma felt such tenderness toward the black-eyed man. He rose and changed the gravitational setting, upping it by a punishing 50x. Vegeta rose into the air and Bulma watched with professional pride as the Prince squared off against her bots. She noticed the lag in their speed about the same time that he did and knew he would be paying her a visit to demand that she adjust them by the way he slowed down to observe them. Her heart gave a funny little jolt at how happy that thought made her feel.

Watching Vegeta flip and spin around the attacks the bots sent relentlessly at him was exciting, both mentally and physically. He moved so fast, with such focus and grace it was more like dancing than fighting. The light show the bots put on simply enhanced the experience, making enticing shadows play over the curves that Vegeta was sculpted from.

She wasn’t really too worried when he inexplicably lost his rhythm and began to take serious damage, though she hated to see him hurt. He would heal and it would make him stronger; part of her thought that was why he seemed to be allowing it.

Her first moment of actual concern was when his aura changed; it became brighter and more consuming until she could barely look at him. The bots changed their tactics and the room employed the laser canons as the AI attempted to compensate for the crazy power rolling off the Saiyan.

Bulma flipped a few controls and brought up a filter that allowed her to see through the starburst surrounding Vegeta. Fists clenched, body arched and mouth open, he appeared like a god in the center of his own flame. There was no sound in the video feed but she knew he was screaming. His uniform tore away from his chest and arms, leaving him in only his breastplate and still he glowed brighter. The bolts from the various weapons either bounced off the shield of his aura or were absorbed by it, not that he appeared to pay any attention to any of that. The coffee cup fell to the floor, forgotten as Bulma rose to her feet and laid her hands on the screen.

_Come on, Vegeta. Come on. Come on…_

She could see something he could not. Through the visual filter provided by the computer, Bulma could see the change fighting to take place in the prince. His midnight hair flashed with blonde streaks in a strobing pattern at the same time that turquoise shards invaded the onyx in his eyes. Arcs of lightening exploded around his body, connecting with the walls of the GR, the bots and the floor guns. Only she couldn’t tell if they were emanating from him or flowing into him.

_My Gods! He’s Ascending! My Vegeta…_

The claxons of the GR’s alarms shattered the silence of Bulma’s vigil. She ripped her gaze away from the screen, turning to the panel in she was nearly kneeling on. The panic rose in her throat counting the number of gauges that were in the overload position. The rooms fail safe had been compromised by the sheer quantity of raw power pouring out of Vegeta. Without the ability to power down on its own the room was in a state of chaos, it’s systems unable to handle the load being dumped into it by the Saiyan in it’s center.

Bulma slapped her palms against the screen, screaming at Vegeta to stop, willing him to hear her or feel her or anything that would save her from having to do what she knew she would have to if he continued to transform. The red lights of the panel began to pop, glass flying out to stick into her and still she screamed uselessly.

_Please, please, please…don’t make me do this to him!_

Bulma looked down at the read outs on the parts of the panel still capable of relaying them and choked on her own cries. Her mind slowed and she analyzed the situation with the genius mind that had created the GR in the first place. The energy in the room had reached red-line, the load back building in it’s circuits to the point of critical mass. It could not contain the awesome power of the Saiyan Prince’s golden fire; he was tearing it apart.

_It’s going to explode, this time with the force of a hydrogen bomb. It’s going to kill him. Even he can’t survive an explosion of that magnitude. Everyone in a 5 mile radius is going to die. Vegeta is going to die. He’s never going to forgive me, but I can’t let him die._

Bulma hit the master control that cut the power to the GR, shaking and crying and knowing that she had just both saved Vegeta’s life and earned his hatred for the rest of her own.

When the dim reserve lights limped on, Bulma was still staring at the screen with empty eyes. The view screen was hard wired to the control room and didn’t lose power with the rest of the GR. Tears streamed down pale cheeks at the sight revealed on monitor. The Prince lay prone on the floor, his face hidden against his arms. Bulma could not see the tears that he shed. What she could see was the way that his back heaved, sobs strong enough to lift his stomach off the floor. His pain reached right across the distance between he and Bulma, tearing her out her heart.

She wanted to go to him.

_I can’t. Not now. Not ever again._

Bulma rested her head beside the image of the broken Prince and watched him cry.

>_>_>_

Vegeta did not move for a very, very long time. He had no will to so much as find a more tolerable position to be utterly desolate in. The futile tears dried up and left him an empty shell.

It was sometime in the middle of the night before Vegeta found the strength to draw himself upright. Then he simply sat in the same spot for another couple of hours, the only part of his body that moved at all was the rise and fall of his chest. Finally, he took a very deep breath, held it until his lungs were burning and let it out, unfolding his body at the same time. No matter how great his sense of defeat, it was not in the great Prince’s nature to stay down for long.

He closed the door the GR behind him and looked up at the dark sky. He’d been inside since the early morning of the day before and had gone the entire day without eating anything except the cold meal he had taken with him.

_Food again when the world falls to shit…_

The kitchen was peaceful and thankfully empty when he let himself into the house. As much as Vegeta wanted to seek out the Woman, he needed a little more time to come to terms with what had just happened to him. And he was awfully hungry, that adding its unpleasant weight to his general misery.

Panchi had thoughtfully left a great deal of dinner in the big warmer beside the oven with a little pink note inviting him to eat his fill.

_The kindness of oddball human mothers when the world falls to shit…_

He immersed himself in the mindless bliss of dumplings and rice, a thick fish stew that filled him with satisfaction and reluctant gratitude to the weird blonde woman that could turn even the more common ingredients into a culinary delight.

The picture of her in his mind killed the beginning of a smile that had tried to make a place for itself on his face. Not her face, but her hair.

‘Born to be a blonde,’ Bulma said again in his memory.

“And yet I fail,” Vegeta muttered out loud. At the sound of his voice the cat, Scratch, appeared beside his chair. An absurd lump formed in the Prince’s throat looking down at the round eyes of the little animal. Scratch put a tiny paw on Vegeta’s singed boot. A gesture of solidarity from another living being. At least, that’s how Vegeta decided to take it and he scooped the creature up into his lap. The little cat was not satisfied with that spot. Sharp claws dug into blistered skin, taking Scratch up the battered chest of the motionless Saiyan and onto his shoulder.

Vegeta sighed, grimaced and tilted his head to the side. The cat purred attractively in the Prince’s ear, simultaneously hurting him in order to crawl up higher, finally perching ridiculously on the top of his head. Vegeta shrugged. The cat kneaded its sharp toes in the mess of royal hair, making a nest for itself and it felt good.

Vegeta finished working his way through the pile of food, eyes half closed to enjoy the sensation of being touched in a way not geared to cause him pain.

Inevitably, that train of thought drove him right back in a circle to Bulma. He cleaned up the empty dishes and not being able to deny his desire to see her and let the comfort of her presence sooth him any longer, headed to the upper floor of the house to find her.

Her ki was easy to find and she was not where he expected. Bulma was in her own chamber this night. Knowing that she was at heart a woman with a taste for luxury, he assumed that she had simply vacated his sparse living quarters for the regal comfort of her own now that the majority of the re-construction was complete.

Unwilling to bring himself into her company in his current condition Vegeta went into the bathroom joining his own bedroom and got a look at himself for the first time that day. He removed his breastplate and what was left of his sub-armour.

_What the fuck ever._

No amount of burned skin and blast marks could matter to him at that point. But two googley green eyes staring out from the shock of his hair nearly gave him heart failure. Not even the hole in his soul could stop Vegeta from letting out a harsh bark of laughter as he fished the bizarre cat out of his hair, knowing that if he stepped into the falling water of the shower with the animal on his head, it would scalp him.

Bulma was curled into a fetal position in the center of her huge bed, her face hidden by her blue hair. She had fallen asleep on top of the covering, dressed only in the pink Badman shirt she was so fond of. She smelled like female and lavender and Vegeta had to staunch the desire to fall down beside her. He stood, arms crossed over his bare chest, looking down at her. Just being close to her was enough for that moment.

>_>_>_

Bulma woke up with the first rays of the sun. She laid without opening her eyes until she realized that she was hearing something that was out of place in her bedroom. A quiet, steady purring sound. She looked around and saw, to her shock, a strangely shaped tower of black hair beside her bed. Bulma crawled over to the side and looked down at Vegeta. The Prince was seated upright, his legs crossed Indian style and his hands tucked under his arms in his typical position, dressed only in a pair of loose workout pants. She leaned over carefully to look closer.

_Sleeping…_

His severe brow was relaxed, as was his mouth. She wanted to touch the long lashes that rested on his cheeks, an oddly feminine feature on a face that was the definition of masculine. But Bulma was distracted by the purring. It was not coming from his chest, though she knew quite well he was capable of making such a sound. She turned her attention to his hair, which was slightly flattened from it’s usual standing height. There, exactly the same shade of gleaming black as his crowning glory, was a cat nestled in the midnight strands, purring with feline happiness.

It was such an unexpected thing to see, so cosmically at odds with everything she had ever known about Vegeta that for one entire second Bulma was struck dumb. Then her thoughts caught up with her eyes and the insane sight tore a high-pitched giggle from her before she could stop it.

Vegeta jerked fully upright, spinning around to face her on his knees, one hand flying up to steady the screeching cat on his head. Scratch, for his part, did not take kindly to being so rudely dislodged from his comfy nest. Using Vegeta’s hand as a platform, he vaulted off the man and streaked toward the door left slightly open in case he needed his cat box while the Saiyan rested.

They stared at each other, the man and the woman. Vegeta’s face turned a light shade of pink in embarrassment at being found unawares, uninvited and in such a stupid situation. He simply hadn’t had the energy to deal with the cat when it had come to him after he’d decided to wait for Bulma to wake. He’d had no energy at all. Falling asleep hadn’t been part of the plan but then he hadn’t really had a plan. He just hadn’t wanted to be alone with his tortured thoughts any longer.

Bulma backed away, unsure as to what possible reason the Prince could have to being there at all. If he meant to kill her for what she had done, she would already be dead. And he certainly didn’t look like he was in a homicidal rage. He looked…wounded.

“Vegeta?” she said, wondering what else there was to say.

He stood up and came toward her, sitting on the bed to face her. Bulma shrunk away a little farther but his hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Please don’t,” he said, eyes lowered and his broad shoulders slumped, “I just want to..I just need-“ he stopped, the words drying up like water in the desert.

Bulma bled inside at the pain in his voice, at the terrible weight that bore down on him, knowing she had put it there. The fact that she had done it to save his life was no comfort at all. Vegeta would never see that as an acceptable reason to keep him from the goal which gave him a reason to exist. She didn’t need him to finish the sentence, she understood. And she knew why he couldn’t bring himself to say it or ask for it. But she couldn’t give it to him. And it made no sense to her that he would ask it from the traitor who had robbed him of his dearest wish.

Vegeta shook his head in a sharp motion that sent a ripple through his whole body and his grip on her wrist tightened. He lifted his gaze and met hers.

“I failed again,” he confessed so quietly that she had to strain to hear him. “I was so close, Bulma, I could feel the change tearing me apart from the inside, remaking me and I lost it. Again.”

Bulma’s eyes filled with tears at what she knew it cost him to admit that. Then the other impact of his words became clear.

 _He’s blaming himself. He doesn’t know that it was me…Fuck. Me._  
  


Bulma opened her mouth to tell him. She could do nothing else. When he knew that she was the reason he’d failed, when he understood that she had shut the GR down right at the moment when he was the closest he had ever come to Ascension, Vegeta would hate her. But he would not blame himself. The broken things behind his eyes would be replaced with anger and it would not be toxically directed inward.

“Vegeta, I have to tell you what happened-“ she began, the words stones in her heart.

But he pulled hard on her wrist and wrapped his arms around her before she could finish.

“I _know_ what happened! Damn it!” he exclaimed into her hair, mussed from sleep, “The fucking GR overloaded. I pumped the gravity up too high for too long. There was just too much; it couldn’t handle it.”

Bulma struggled to push back so he could see her face and looked up at him. Vegeta was furious and damaged at the same time, but he looked down into her face with an open expression and leaned over to rest his cheek against her forehead, holding her. She heaved a sob, burying her face against him and snaking quivering arms around his waist.

“Do not cry for it, Woman. It was no fault of yours, you warned me to watch the alarms. Over and over you warned me. It’s my own fault,” he said, obviously intending to spare her, not wanting her pity. “Can you fix it? I need to go to at least 500x gravity.”

Her voice was hallow, “I can fix it. That, at least, I can fix.”

_It’s everything else between us now that I can never fix._

So great was his faith in her that Vegeta actually relaxed. “You said you believe I can do it. Last night I almost gave up, lying in the dark in the GR; I wanted to. But I am Vegeta. I am a prince. I will not fail again, Bulma. I will Ascend.”

Bulma listened to his heart beat, filled her lungs with his sandalwood scent and let her hands explore the scarred smoothness of his back. For what might be the last time.

_I’m going to die when I lose him this time. He won’t come back to me this time. Ever. But I have this day. I have him now._

“You will. Vegeta, you don’t know how to fail.”

Before the Prince could say anything else, Bulma rose up on her knees and kissed him. Vegeta responded instantly, all the pain and suffering he’d put himself through turning into a need that burned her with its intensity. His tail switched behind him like a viper, his arms iron bands around the Woman. His mouth was hard, hurting her a little in a way she welcomed.

Bulma let herself fall over backwards, pulling Vegeta down on top of her. She could feel the insistence of his need straining between her legs. Bulma pushed the fitted pants down his hips roughly, waited the second that it took him to tug his tail free, then opened her legs wide for him. She expected his response and countered it.

Vegeta had shown Bulma that he would make sure she had reached her peak before taking his own pleasure; she didn’t let him. When he started to back off, to make her ready, she stopped him by digging her nails into his backside.

“Now.”

It was not a request. Still, Vegeta did not thrust.

“You aren’t wet enough yet. I’ll hurt you,” he said, holding himself away from her grinding hips as she sought him. Bulma reached up and took two fistfuls of his hair, her eyes hard as sapphires.

“I know. That’s what I want.”

_I want you to leave me as bloody on the outside as I will be on the inside._

“I want you to _break_ me.”

 

 

>_>_>_

He heard her. And his blood boiled at the words. Vegeta’s animal nature took over. Bulma screamed, her voice joining his in the consummation of their bodies. She wasn’t ready for the size or violence of the weapon he used on her and she tore when he thrust into her tightness with the full force of a Saiyan warrior. A part of Vegeta’s mind recoiled at the way he treated the tiny woman under him, but the way she clung to him and cried out to him threw more fuel on the fire.

Vegeta pounded into Bulma without mercy and was received without her asking for any. For every punishing thrust of his cock inside her, she lifted and demanded more. Sweat ran down Vegeta’s face and mingled with the tears that ran down her cheeks, both their bodies slick with sex and exertion.

Faster than he had ever allowed himself to reach climax in his life, Vegeta came. He lifted his chest on stiff, bulging arms and rammed his cock into the impossibly snug sheath one last time, shaking and breathless with his release. His seed pumped out of him, raking his body with every powerful spasm, filling the Woman to the point that he felt it spill out onto his own thighs. One final, soul deep tremor shook him and Vegeta collapsed.

Bulma welcomed his weight on her, twinning her arms and legs around him to keep him there. For a long time neither of them moved, concentrating on simply getting enough air to stay alive.

For his part, Vegeta had no desire to move. He wanted to stay precisely where he was, still buried to the hilt and utterly sated. It was the tiny twitches around the shaft of his penis that gave him the impetus to finally lift his head. Bulma was no longer streaked with tears, instead her face was serene and the way she gazed at him made his chest feel like it was full of water.

Blue eyes, wide and soft, watched the Prince as though she had never seen anything so precious. Vegeta looked back at her and was certain that he had never seen anything quite that beautiful. She lifted her hips a little and the pocket that held him rippled wetly.

_What is this Woman?_

It was his considered opinion that she should probably be in pieces after the treatment he had just inflicted upon her fragile, human body. At the very least she should be damaged in the same way she had been the first time they’d been together, when she’d demanded that he stretch her beyond her own limits. This time she’d demanded the same thing but in a different way and he’d given it to her by taking his pleasure for himself.

Vegeta moved carefully, intending to withdraw as gently as he could. Again, Bulma stopped him from exerting his good intentions. She clamped her legs around him and locked her ankles in place. Vegeta was not fully erect but was by no means flaccid. The minute caresses that tickled over his cock from inside Bulma brought him back to a state of arousal that was obvious to them both. But he knew from the scent that he had hurt her, there was a faint touch of blood in the air.

Vegeta’s tail caught hold of Bulma’s foot and forced her to let go, allowing the Prince to pull out and sit up. She made a sound like glass shattering. Vegeta looked down at himself and saw the evidence of the violence with which he had taken her on his body. Red streaks mixed with the viscous white fluid that gleamed on the shaft of his heavy male member.

He put a hand on her belly and looked at her with wide eyes. But the look she gave him held no recrimination.

“Touch me,” she implored, fighting the furry grip he had on her.

Vegeta ran a finger between her legs, expecting her to jump, pull away or yell at him.

_Probably all three and I deserve it. Monster. And I call the men of this planet savages. Even Yamcha’s dumb ass wouldn’t have done this to her. Couldn’t have._

She did none of those things. Bulma reached down and touched herself, showing him what she wanted him to do. He watched in fascination, his tongue between his teeth in an effort to control himself, but he did not touch her.

Bulma turned her face away from him for a long moment. When she faced him again he almost didn’t recognize her. Bulma looked feral. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was set in a cruel line. She stopped fighting his hold on her.

“Let me go.”

The timbre of command was unmistakable. Vegeta had never heard it from Bulma but he automatically assumed that she was meant what she said and released her.

“As you wish, Lady,” he acquiesced, the tiniest bit of uncertainty tipping a corner of his mouth down. He felt odd and off center, as though his balance had been compromised somehow. It was entirely disconcerting.

Bulma climbed off the bed and stood in the pink shirt like a general on a battlefield. The scent of her arousal mixed with the perfume of her blood had a very strange effect on Vegeta and she was aware of it. She intended to use it.

She circled around behind him and took his delicate tail in her hands. Vegeta stiffened and held his breath, not moving otherwise, waiting to see what her purpose was for this drastic change in behaviour.

“I told you I would never hurt you, Vegeta,” Bulma murmured, stroking the length of his long, wonderfully soft tail with both hands.

_I lied._

>_>_>_

Vegeta fought the impulse to look over his shoulder at her, confused by her cold tone. It didn’t match the worshipful way that she touched the third most vulnerable part of his body. It didn’t match with the way he felt having her hands on him.

Vegeta listened to Bulma go into the bathroom and turn on the water. He stayed still with the exception of his restless tail, the only outward sign of the rising tension in the Saiyan Prince. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear his mind. The smell of her blood rising from his body made it hard to think.

Perhaps the Woman was internally disgusted with him for the weakness he’d shown her. He felt his face heat up. The way Vegeta’s mind worked was convoluted but his thought processes where as off as his balance seemed to be. In his mental turmoil he was close to believing that Bulma had wanted him to take her the way he had to prove to her that despite his stunning failure in the compromised GR he was still a man, still a warrior. Still worthy of her.

Vegeta shook his head with jerky, jarring motions, unable to stop himself. His head was swimming.

_Why can’t I smell anything but blood?_

Bulma returned and the scent intensified, though he knew she had washed herself and was not actively bleeding. It was as if he could smell the blood running through her veins, just as he could hear it pumping through her heart.

The Prince backed away from her as she neared, tugging his pants back into place as he stepped down from the dais.

“Stop, Bulma,” he stammered, a hand out to ward her off, “There’s something wrong- with me.” The Woman froze, clearly alarmed by his appearance, the cold expression morphing into something closer to fear. Vegeta tried to relax his face from the savage snarl that bared his teeth and curled his hands into fists. He felt almost exactly like he did when he transformed into an Oozaru, though that was impossible to do in the daytime without a manufacture moon. He needed to get away from her. The urge to bite was too strong, her scent too appealing and she was too close.

He did, however, have the presence of mind to use the door this time.

Vegeta’s only goal was to get away, out of the house and into fresh air. To get to water so he could wash the blood from his skin before it drove him insane. He charged out of the stairwell, ignoring the candy cane voice of Bulma’s mother inviting him to the dining room and through the front door.

Straight in the smiling face of Kakarot.

_Oh, for FUCKS sake! The gods truly hate me!_

Kakarot bounced back a little at the impact of the shorter Saiyan against his chest, grabbing Vegeta by the forearms to steady them both.

“Vegeta! Just the man I was looking for,” he started in his typically enthusiastic voice, which just tended to infuriate Vegeta. Even when he was afraid he was loosing his mind.

He tore his arms from the other man’s grip and glared at him. “Get the fuck out of my way,” he growled and without another breath, launched himself into the air. Vegeta crossed his arms over his face to protect himself from the blast that slammed into him when he broke the sound barrier and headed toward the lake the bordered the property of Capsule Corp.

The Prince hit the shimmering water like a crashing 747, cutting all the way down to the lake bed. He shimmied out of his pants and used the sand from the bottom of the lake to scrub his skin, all of it. It hurt, rubbing the scorch and healing wounds for his battle bots, but Vegeta didn’t stop until he had no choice but to surface for air.

_Are you FUCKING kidding me?!_

Standing on the shore was the unmistakable figure of an orange clad Kakarot.

_Deal with that idiot or go back to the bottom of the lake and drown._

Vegeta took a deep breath and fired a ki blast straight up, propelling his body back down to the deepest part of the lake.

He felt rather than heard the percussion of a fast moving body hitting the water and turned to see the bubble trail that meant his nightmare was streaking toward him. Vegeta let loose a string of useless curses and struggled back into his sodden pants before sending two blue balls of angry ki directly towards Kakarot.

The other Saiyan deflected the blasts and send one of his own back. Vegeta flicked it upward, dug his feet in and braced himself to fight. He didn’t have the faintest clue why the clown had decided to attack him but it didn’t really matter. He was in the mood to fight and sending 32 teeth into Kakarot’s brain would go a long way toward making him feel better.

They met like two bull moose, grappling. Kakarot was the one to give into his need to breathe first, taking them both up and out into the clear sky above the water. It occurred to Vegeta, at that moment trying to keep Kakarot from getting a head lock on him, that perhaps Kakarot was trying to avenge Bulma in some way. She was his best friend after all. He might not take too kindly to the idea of her sharing a bed with a mass murderer.

Vegeta had greatly over estimated Kakarot’s complexity. He threw the taller man off and followed up with a few energy discs. Kakarot dodged the first couple, took the final one in the ribcage and turned to face Vegeta, hands up.

“Are we using damage attacks, ‘Geta?” he yelled over the sound of the deflected bolts hitting the shore.

Vegeta had two more ready to go but paused at that. Kakarot backed away, still facing him and landed on the ground, looking up at Vegeta.

Cautiously, the Prince touched down, staring at the dripping man with narrow eyes, “Explain yourself.”

Kakarot smiled, shaking the water out of his hair. His chi flared brightly, making steam rise from his soaking gi to dry it.

“I came to see if you wanted a spar,” he replied, “ChiChi won’t let me train with Gohan right now, he has to study. Training underwater is a new thing, isn’t it? It’ll help with endurance, right? Do you want to go back down?”

Vegeta stared at him, most of his mind still in fight mode. He amped his own chi up to dry himself, making his hair stand on end and dropped out of his offensive posture.

“Spar?” the Prince, repeated, “That’s what you are stalking me for? Get a friend.”

Kakarot ran his hands through his hair, which sprung back into its abnormal shape, as always, the moment it was dry. He started stretching his arms and doing squats, just as if he were preparing for a match. “You’re my friend,” he said contentedly, “And I felt the surge in your chi, ‘Geta. You’re as strong as I am now. There isn’t anyone else either of us can really spar with now.”

His words felt like a knife to the gut. Vegeta groaned, “I’m not your friend, Kakarot. I want you dead, remember.”

Kakarot was not disturbed by this in the slightest. From his reaction he might have received death threats every day, “You don’t actually want me dead, ‘Geta. I was dead and that didn’t make you happy. You want to beat me. It’s not the same thing.”

“Is there not way to offend you?” Vegeta gritted out, knowing that in his way Kakarot was right. He had spent a lot of time wanting the man dead, but when Kakarot actually was dead Vegeta had to come to terms with the fact that he would always be second best unless he bested the other man personally. He didn’t want to inherit the title of strongest on the victory of another.

“Not really,” Kakarot laughed, walking over and putting a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. Instantly, Vegeta slapped it away, sending him back several feet. He just laughed again, taking his position in a crouch Vegeta recognized.

_Beating the crap out of Kakarot when everything goes to shit._

The two spent half the day by the lake, time forgotten by both in the enduring pleasure of fighting an equal. They did not use ki, neither of them drawing on their chi to enhance their performance or their strength. Vegeta quickly lost himself in the mindlessness of battle, taking and dealing damage as only a Saiyan could with another of his own kind.

“Alright, alright!” Kakarot declared finally, making a T with his hands, “Enough. I give.”

Vegeta smirked at him, wiping his sweaty face and then falling straight over backward onto the ground. Kakarot flopped down beside him and they laid in panting silence, waiting for their heart rates to return to normal. Kakarot’s stomach gave an almighty roar and he sat up. Vegeta watched from the comfort of the grass as Kakarot rose to his feet, but he sat bolt upright when the man started taking off his clothes.

“What the hell are you doing now?” he demanded. Kakarot dropped his gi to the ground and stood with not a shred of self-consciousness or clothing. He was just as well built as Vegeta, though a few inches taller. He turned his back, looking out over the lake.

“I’m starving! There are fish in the water and I don’t want to get my clothes wet again,” he glanced over his shoulder, “You’ll eat fish?”

Vegeta took about half a second to consider the grinding cavern that was the current resident in his middle section, “I’ll eat anything.” He was considering the various merits of setting up an actual fire to cook the meat as opposed to the faster and far more tasteless cooking they could easily do with their ki when he caught sight of Kakarot again.

Vegeta had never seen the spot left where Kakarot’s tail used to be. It had been taken from him in his youth, ostensibly for his own good. Vegeta’s own tail, wrapped tightly around his waist to keep it out of the way, tingled very unpleasantly at the imagined pain of having it removed.

“Does is still hurt?” he asked, compassion in his voice for the first time ever when talking to the third class warrior he considered beneath him.

Kakarot made a sad little smile, his hand reaching back to cover the scar that marred the near perfection of his back, “I don’t feel it anymore.”

“Do you miss it?”

Kakarot floated up into the air, twisting around towards the water, “You can’t miss something you don’t really remember having. But it’s better that way.”

Vegeta watched the Saiyan until he plunged down in the water, all thoughts of firewood forgotten. Was it possible that he had just gotten a pearl of wisdom from the biggest idiot he’d ever met?

Vegeta hadn’t done anything constructive when Kakarot returned to the shore. The armful of fish he dumped on the grass where still wiggling and that got the Prince’s attention. Whatever introspective thoughts where roiling around in his head, he was still hungry.

They sat in a nearly companionable silence, which basically consisted of Vegeta not insulting Kakarot with every spare breath, eating ki scorched fish. The long spar had cleared Vegeta’s mind of the muzzy unbalance and bizarre blood lust that had forced him from the compound. He still had no answers to the thousand questions in his head, but at least he could think again.

He watched Kakarot devouring the pile of seafood with single minded concentration. The man had to be the most innocent creature in existence. It was rather disgusting, but Vegeta had to admit to himself that he almost envied the peace that surrounded Kakarot like a blanket. He never had volcanic conflict that was one of Vegeta’s defining factors.

All at once Vegeta realized that he had a unique opportunity. He was alone with the only other Saiyan on the planet, for what he hoped would be the only time in his life. Though, if he was honest, the guy had done him a great service by annoyingly appearing outside Bulma’s house and goading him into the best sparring match he’d had in recent memory.

“I might not tell you to fuck off if you came back sometime to train, Kakarot,” he said harshly, around a mouthful of fish.

Kakarot chuckled in the high pitched way that both entirely his signature and felt like pins in Vegeta’s brain, “I had a good time too. Thanks, buddy.”

Vegeta screwed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Call me ‘buddy’ ever again and I will rip your other tail off.”

Kakarot gingerly covered himself, never having bothered putting his gi back on after coming out of the water. But he laughed again. He stood up and began to tug his uniform on, obviously intending to continue the session now that his belly was full but the next words out of Vegeta’s mouth stopped him dead.

“I bit Bulma.”

_At least I know our level are even enough that he will need help if he decides to try to kill me._

Kakarot turned slowly and looked down at Vegeta, his shirt hanging from his hand. His usually jovial face changed into a seriousness that didn’t look right on him, but he wasn’t angry.

“Why?”

Vegeta felt the heat rise in his face. Blushing was something that he could not control and he hated it. The Prince crossed his arms and looked determinedly away from Kakarot, who lowered himself to sit a few feet away. He considered blasting Kakarot. Instead, Vegeta used a tiny amount of ki to carefully incinerate the pile of fish bones on the ground before him with the tip of his index finger.

“I don’t know.”

“If I ask you a personal question, promise you won’t try to hurt me,” Kakarot said and Vegeta could tell by the tone of his voice that he had his hand on the back of his head.

“I promise nothing,” Vegeta replied, but he didn’t raise his chi or his voice.

“What were you, um, doing when you bit her?” Kakarot asked, just as much blush in his voice as Vegeta felt on his own.

_Not gonna to kill him. Not gonna kill him. Not gonna kill him._

“Why?”

“Well, that sort of happened to me once. When I was with ChiChi,” Kakarot admitted quietly, “When we were in the middle of…of…well, you know.”

Vegeta turned all the way to the side, facing the other man, his curiosity leaving his embarrassment in the dirt. There was no way in the universe he would ever have asked such a thing, but since Kakarot had volunteered the information, Vegeta could not hold back, “You mean you were having sex?”

Kakarot turned bright red and gave a giggle that made the Prince’s tail bristle like an angry hedgehog but he nodded.

“And you bit her?” Vegeta pressed, “Just here?” He touched his neck at the juncture between it and his shoulder.

“Oh, no!” Kakarot averred quickly, “ChiChi would never let me do something like that. I wanted to is all. A few months after we were married. It was like a voice in my head told me to do it. It was so strong that I had to leave to keep myself from doing it after she said no.”

Vegeta cringed internally at the thought of Kakarot having relations with the Harpy that was his human wife. He didn’t see how that horrible woman was even the same species as Bulma. What Kakarot said, on the other hand, made perfect sense.

“Yes! That’s exactly it,” he agreed, eagerly, thinking that the other Saiyan might actually be able to explain.

Kakarot looked at the Prince strangely, opened his mouth and the closed it.

“Oh, out with it, idiot!” Vegeta cried, exasperated.

“Well,” he said, the hand returning to the back of his neck, “Does that mean that you and Bulma are together?”

Vegeta’s mouth flattened into a single line and his chi finally flashed out around him, pushing the grass away from where he sat. If he were to be honest, he would have said yes, he did in fact consider Bulma to b his own. It was unacceptable to him that any other man would have the nerve to lay a finger on her.

_Pretty sure I’ll be gutting any man who tries._

But he did not know what Bulma would say in answer to that question. He had just run out on her. Again. He had confessed the shame if his failure to her. She might not want him in any sort of lasting fashion. Vegeta knew nothing about the way human women regarded sex. For all he knew Bulma was taking advantage of the pleasure his body could give her without any real attachment to him as a person.

_But the way she looks at me…I don’t think she sees me as a life support system for a cock._

“I’m so confused,” he muttered, staring at the ground, struggling with himself. He could not deal with the possibility that she might reject him. That he might make his affection for her known and have it thrown back in his face. Vegeta’s great pride could not survive through such destruction.

“Look, man, I think if you actually bit Bulma there must be something between you. I didn’t feel the urge to do that until I realized that I actually _wanted_ to be married to ChiChi. And not just because she told me that how I was supposed to feel. I really wish she would have let me too. There was always something missing for me after that. I think it must be a Saiyan thing. I asked Yamcha. He never had the desire to bite Bulma and they were together for, like, ten years.”

Abruptly Vegeta felt the fire rise inside him and pour out to disturb the environment around him. Kakarot backed away, arms up to protect his face from the blast of ki coming off of the Prince.

Vegeta’s fists contracted, his tail snapped like a whip and he bared his teeth, “Don’t ever mention that Weakling to me again, Kakarot. Unless you want me to hunt him down and rip him into pieces to lay at her doorstep.”

“Calm down, ‘Geta, just calm down,” Kakarot cajoled in what he obviously thought was a consoling tone.

Vegeta sprang to his feet and spun around, sparks flicking through his hair and down his arms highlighting his fury. He attacked. Kakarot blocked the blows that came down on him like a hailstorm, but he didn’t fight back. Even he could see that Vegeta needed to hit something and considering that the man’s former profession had been annihilating worlds, he was willing to take one for the team if it meant sparing the planet and definitely Yamcha a very gory death.

He waited, defending himself only, until the insane pace of the attacks slowed and Vegeta’s power level fell back to a manageable level. What he didn’t understand was why Vegeta stayed in his base form when he certainly had the power to transform. Knowing how volatile that subject was with Vegeta, he decided not to bring it up. The man really wasn’t as stupid as most people thought he was.

Instead, Kakarot let Vegeta spend his anger in the only way a Saiyan could and when he finally stopped, panting and exhausted, Kakarot sat back down on the ground beside him rubbing his battered arms and glad that even Vegeta’s rage had its limits.

“I think you should just tell her how you feel,” Kakarot advised, as though this was useful. Then he looked hard at Vegeta, his black eyes taking on a gimlet shine, “I love Bulma. Don’t do anything to hurt her or you will have to answer to me.”

Vegeta immediately flared up again at the implied threat, ready to resume the fight but found that his heart was no longer in it. He knew that the two of them were close. Kakarot was also the only man on the planet that Vegeta knew would only ever see Bulma as a friend and a sister; he was the one man who was not a threat. If Vegeta were to die, he knew Kakarot would protect her, as he always had in his absent, juvenile way.

“I don’t know how I feel,” he said, miserably aware that this was totally true and also totally false.

_I feel like an idiot. I’m taking life advise from fucking Kakarot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very nervous.  
> Thank you Jazzydazzy, for reminding me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ElriZ_ on YouTube...You guys are missing out. I love these. Kind and talented. It will give you a reason to actually read your email. Sometimes this is just what I want to see. And thank you for reading my work.

Chapter 12

Bulma was not angry with Vegeta this time for his abrupt and hasty departure. She knew that he had scared himself. Trying to protect her in his own way by running from his baser impulses.

She did not pretend to completely, or at all really, understand the drive he had to bite her but in her mind, she categorized it as a particular of simply being an alien. She well remembered how strange Goku had been when she had first met him. He hadn’t understood some of the simplest things about being human.

Vegeta was not the innocent Goku had been and it was his bearing of regal control along with his commanding presence that made people tend to forget that he was not from Earth. His incredible self-possession hid his obvious ignorance of the social customs common on his adopted planet. That and the fact that the Crown Prince simply didn’t care what anyone else thought of him.

_There is a certain charm in that._

Bulma was fairly certain that she knew where Vegeta had gone. Bulma played the security footage back from the front doors of her compound and was surprised to see Goku. Even more surprised to see that rather than blast the taller Saiyan, Vegeta had fired himself into the air. Goku followed a moment later, both men rocketing in the direction of the lake.

Neither returned and she hoped whatever they were doing would not end in some sort of bloodshed. Privately, Bulma thought that Vegeta might benefit from a friendship with the only other full-blooded Saiyan on Earth. She thought the Prince was missing out in his refusal to see Goku as anything but competition.

When some time had passed without the world exploding, Bulma decided that the two men must be training together and that she too should get something constructive done with her day. But she could not settle to any one task. Her mind was too restless.

Eventually, she ended up tucked into one of the big couches in the media room, sightlessly flipping through the channels.

_How am I going to tell him?_

Vegeta was not going to forgive her for her part in stopping him from his Ascension. He would not believe she had done it to save him from what would have probably been a very gory death in the bomb he had turned the GR into. But she couldn’t stand the idea that he was blaming himself. Watching him cry had broken her heart.

Bulma let out a blast of frustrated air and launched herself off the couch.

_At least I can make sure that doesn’t happen again. _

>_>_>_

There was only so much Kakarot Vegeta could stand in one day and he had maxed out. The spar had been good, very good and the Prince was angry about that. He had lacked for a partner that could withstand his inhuman strength, he could let loose on no one else. He would have said he actually enjoyed himself, but the dopey grin that met him at every turn was just too much. No matter what venom he spewed, Kakarot’s composure never wavered.

Nor did the other man once insult him, no matter how provocative Vegeta became. Instead, infuriatingly, Kakarot was unfailingly encouraging and even complimentary. Unable to take it anymore, Vegeta fired a blast aimed to take the fools head off. Kakarot actually seemed shocked at the fury of the ki attack. But only for a moment.

Then he did the one thing that Vegeta did not entirely expect. With a brutal show of power and concentration, Kakarot finally let loose his own ki.

He turned.

The ki blast stopped against the outstretched palm of his hand and he held it there, his hair a brilliant yellow and his normally black eyes the very colour of aqua that haunted Vegeta’s dreams. Kakarot lost the guileless expression and for the first time he showed the slightest bit of temper.

“Why do you hate me so much, ‘Geta?” he said and the timbre of his voice cut through the Prince like a knife.

When Vegeta did not immediately answer, Kakarot turned his hand and directed the captive ki ball skyward. It flew harmlessly into the sky, leaving not so much as a scorch mark on his palm.

Vegeta stared, black eyes wide at the beauty of the transformation he wanted so badly for himself. Slowly, he wilted, eyes on his own hands now. He dropped to one knee and felt his face crunch into a vista of disappointment and pain.

“You make a mockery of me,” he whispered, the anger draining away in a haze of self-recrimination, “You have what I’ve wanted all my life and it means nothing to you. Costs you nothing.”

Kakarot pulled his own ki in and his glow intensified, flowing around him in waves that Vegeta could feel in his bones. But he did not retaliate. Instead, he walked softly toward his fellow Saiyan, stopping close enough to touch him.

“You think it cost me nothing?” he answered harshly, holding out a hand and forming a ki ball of his own. The force of the power emanating from him caused the spikes in both their hair to whip gently. “I had to watch my friend die. In cold-blooded murder, Vegeta! That’s what made me this way and you think that was nothing?”

Vegeta looked up at him, considering but saying nothing. Kakarot made the orange ball of power float up a few inches from his hand, “That hurt me so much, Vegeta. Watching Krillin die like that. For no reason at all. The pain was too much too hold inside.”

Kakarot let the ki ball return to his hand and closed his big fist around it. He took a few deep breaths, calming himself. A few seconds later the glow surrounding him faded and his hair flickered back to its midnight black, his eyes following suit.

“I know that kind of anger, Kakarot. That kind of hate. And yet I fail. I fail.”

“Well, my friend, then you need to find something else to fight for.”

>_>_>_

They had parted ways after that. Kakarot had taken off to fly home to his wife and little son. Vegeta had stayed by the lake for a time, thinking about what Kakarot had said.

_I have nothing to fight for but my own pride. But the need to be the best._

_It isn’t enough._

The sun was falling in the sky, the breeze coming from the water had turned cold. His clothing was shredded, and he laid on the grass, uncomfortable.

The thought of the Woman bloomed in his mind. She would be angry with him again. Vegeta wrapped his tail around his neck and sat up, wondering if he could avoid her and return to his quarters. He was hungry again and the bruises inflicted by his sparring partner had begun to ache. He shook his head; he was becoming spoiled by the luxury in which Bulma kept him.

_I don’t really want to avoid her. Just the screaming that usually comes with her being angry._

Standing, Vegeta surveyed the area around him and decided that he and Kakarot hadn’t damaged it in any real way, just a few divots here and there where they had thrown or slammed each other into something without the sense to get out of their way.

He knew one way he could get something to eat and a change of clothes without setting foot back in the house on the compound. The GR was equipped with the basics, being a ship as well as a training facility. Mind made up, Vegeta rose into the air and made his way back to Capsule Corp.

What greeted him was not what he expected. The GR was in a state of disorder that he found appalling and not just because he had intended to squirrel himself away inside it for the moment. There were bots swarming over the outside and part of the great machines’ guts were exposed. He recognized the small bots as the kind that Bulma used as her personal army, to aid her when the job was too big for the small woman to do on her own.

Vegeta looked carefully and saw the slim form of her two legs sticking out from a port in the side of the GR.

_My GR!_

A short distance away were two more legs belonging to her father. He touched down and listened, keening his ears to hear them. They were discussing the various merits of the machinery used to make the GR even more powerful and both father and daughter had excitement in their voices.

Vegeta studied the little bots. They moved with purpose, crawling around the humans in a way that was insect like and slightly creepy. Vegeta pressed his body against the rounded side of the GR and extended his hearing to listen.

“It almost blew, Dad,” Bulma was saying, her top half hidden under the machine and the sound of movement evident.

Dr. Briefs reached down and took a tool by his hip.

“We will have to fortify the gravity actuators in order to hold them steady. Let me just strengthen this connection a bit..”

Bulma started to slip out from under the machine. Vegeta moved further away from her and her father. They were doing the work that he had requested and he knew he should be grateful for that. Telling himself that, Vegeta went around the GR towards the house. He couldn’t take to the sky again; Bulma, with her uncanny ability to sense his presence, would probably see him and he was not ready to face her again.

_I smell like a dumpster fire…I will wash first and then…_

It was an acceptable excuse. He flashed too fast for human eyes to focus on and once he reached the far side of the compound house, leapt up the two stories to his windows. As usual, they were open.

The stark white order of his chamber was calming and familiar. The hot water of the shower went a long way towards soothing the soreness that was the inevitable result of war games with another Saiyan. When he’d had his fill, Vegeta grabbed a pair of loose pants and a tank top from his small stash of human clothes. The destroyed uniform he’d been wearing was not salvageable. That ended up stuffed in the little rubbish bin he kept in the bathroom.

The bed looked so inviting, soft and plush as he could want. But the hole in his stomach precluded that need. Standing still in the center of his chamber, Vegeta again extended his senses. The touch of the weak life force that was Bulma’s mother was close by. His excellent nose picked up the scents of her culinary prowess and his stomach growled.

But it wasn’t worth it to him to go down and deal with what he knew would turn into a well meant delve into his day by Panchi. If he didn’t appear the odd woman would leave him a healthy amount of food in her warming oven. He could go fetch it later, once the other people in the house had gone to bed.

There were some little snacks secreted away in the drawers of his room. Once those were exhausted, Vegeta sighed and resolved to stash more later. But he was tired. Very tired. Mentally and physically.

_Sleep now, I think._

He laid back on his bed and let the mattress sink under his weight. Black eyes closed and he breathed slowly, his mind re-playing Kakarot’s words until they followed him into dreams.

>_>_>_

The sun fell below the horizon and though Bulma would have kept working, her father wanted to return to the house and Panchi. Without his assistance the work would go too slowly and she had to admit that she was burned out. Bulma followed her dad back to the house and let her mother fuss over her, smoothing her hair and wiping the grease from her face and hands.

“You work too hard!” Panchi proclaimed, “both of you.” The blonde woman kissed her husband fondly and wrapped motherly arms around her daughter. The three of them sat together and ate, talking of little things while the cat, Scratch, climbed up her father’s lab coat and settled on his shoulder.

Bulma begged off her parents offer to play a board game.

_How old are these people, really? But I love them._

She decided to go back to her chambers and wash off the work day. Slogging through the hallways, her thoughts were a mess. The GR could be ready for Vegeta as soon as the day after next, but she didn’t know where he was or if he would even be back by then. Still, improvements had been made and that made her feel productive. The thing would not blow or threaten to again if she could help it.

Going back to her own bedroom Bulma had to pass by the one usually occupied by the Saiyan Prince. She would have passed right by if not for the strong scent of the sandalwood soap coming from the room. The door was closed and there was no light from inside, but the scent was enough to turn her attention. The contact on the outside opened at the touch of the palm of her hand. Light from the hallway fell across the chamber and onto the white bed. Currently occupied by the dark shadow of a shapely man, curled away from her on his side and breathing deeply. The blackness of his sharp hair was a stark contrast to the white linen.

_Vegeta._

Bulma stayed in the doorway for a very long time. She was hesitant to approach him, asleep as he was. But it was the rolling rumble of his stomach that decided her next course of action. Panchi had indeed left a wealth of food for the Prince in her kitchen. Bulma strode back down to the kitchens and tucked the lot onto a tray. She added a pitcher of the cranberry juice which she knew the man favoured, taking this gift back to his room far more slowly than was necessary.

When she returned to the darkened room, she found the Prince in the same position. Tenderness overcame the very sensible woman. She looked at him in the human clothing he wore and felt her heart and lungs contract with feeling.

_I am so sorry.._

Bulma carefully placed the tray down on the desk next to the sand garden and went back to the bed to stand and look down at the sleeping Prince.

_So very beautiful._

The human woman eased her bottom onto the bed behind the Prince. She waited to see if he would wake and when he didn’t, she carefully put her hand on his head. She knew that Vegeta was averse to being vulnerable. He hated being disturbed while he slept. But he was so appealing and she wanted so much to touch him.

Bulma put one hand on his head, loving the texture of his thick, satin hair against her skin. The scent that rose from him made her breathe more deeply to catch it and wish that she had the kind of senses he did. Her fingers splayed and she ran them through his hair, from the softness of the nape of his neck to the sharp peak on his forehead. For his part, Vegeta contracted his body into a tighter ball and his mouth curved in a slight smile.

Bulma felt the strain of the day in her body. The comfort of the bed beckoned to her, as did the inviting form of the male body in it. She had no wish to wake Vegeta. Gingerly, Bulma eased her own body down to curve around his with relish and when she was able to lay her face against the muscles of his back, she closed her eyes. His scent was a thing she knew would never be found again, as was the feeling of him breathing against her chest. She tentatively snaked a hand over his ribcage, fingers extended against his chest to measure the beat of his heart. The slow thump gave her the most loving feeling. His own life in a rhythm under the palm of her hand.

_This great Prince, so warm and close. When he hates me, it’s going to end me._

>_>_>_

Hunger woke him. The feeling of a warm body wrapped around him stopped Vegeta from springing out of the bed. There was a small hand pressed against his chest right over his heart and the curve of a very female body following the contour of his own. He took a deep breath and found her scent.

_Bulma._

It was slightly disturbing that she had managed to sneak up on him while he slept but if she had been an enemy Vegeta was mostly certain that he would have woken to confront the danger. He didn’t consider the Woman a threat. And lying still, with her blue head tucked up against the back of his shoulders, she was a welcome addition to the place where he slept.

Vegeta moved one hand. The Woman’s thigh was right behind his own. He ran his hand along the length, slow and careful so as not to wake her. Her skin was smooth and warm, a pleasure to touch. She had come while he slept and lain beside him.

_I would die for this Woman._

Vegeta held his breath. He had never had that thought about anyone in his life.

_I fight for myself._

But the little human Woman lying there, giving him her living heat and the trusting warmth of her body was important. He let himself take another breath, filling himself with her scent. She smelled so good to him. And his mentality changed, without his body moving at all, into a more protective pose.

He thought of the androids that would come to the Earth. They would try to kill everyone on the planet. That included Bulma.

_And I’m not strong enough yet…_

>_>_>_

Vegeta turned over, rolling inside the wrap of Bulma’s embrace. She opened her eyes and smiled in the way humans do when they wake up to a day full of sunshine. The gaze that she met was as black as onyx and as deep as a night sky. Vegeta was only inches away, looking at her as though she were the center of the universe. She’d never seen that look on his face before and it made her draw back.

His eyes moved from hers to her mouth. Big arms moved under her body to wrap around her, drawing her even closer to his wide chest. Still somewhat asleep, Bulma lifted her own arms to embrace the man beside her. He was a solid mass of male from his chest to his feet and he pressed the entire length against her.

“Vegeta?” she started, slightly breathless but he stopped her talking with his own mouth. Vegeta kissed her, his mouth open and his lips soft. A large hand came up behind Bulma and fisted in her hair, holding her. The other pressed into her back, bringing her even closer to him.

The Prince moved to cover her body and Bulma put her arms around him. He felt so good, a strong and contoured weight on top of her. His mouth was gentle, the way he kissed her felt like something sacred. He licked her tongue and let her lick his as though he would never taste her enough.

Kissing like that was not something that Bulma would ever forget. Vegeta pressed himself into her and kissed her with his whole body. He lifted one leg under her to open her to himself and supported himself with one arm so that he could fondle a firm breast. His lips moved against hers and his tongue invaded her mouth deliciously.

Bulma held Vegeta’s face in her hands and kissed him back, just as gently and with as much appetite. His tail came up over his shoulder and twined around her wrist just as he pressed down on her lower half. His need was evident; Bulma opened wider to invite him.

But he did not move to take her as she expected. His kiss deepened, his tongue delving deeper into her mouth. When she sucked on it, he tensed and made the purring sound that she loved to hear. Bulma ran her hands up and down the ridged muscles of his back under his clothing, touching the scars that marked him as a warrior. As a Saiyan.

_Kiss me…_

She’d never known a kiss like this one. Vegeta let her dip into his mouth and taste him without trying to take control. Just when she was thought that she had him, his own tongue would slide over hers and she would feel him inside her mouth, tasting. He licked her lips and then let her catch her breath by moving down to kiss her neck and jawline. She held him still and moved her own mouth to run her tongue around his ear.

Bulma was ready for the tremor that went through the Saiyan Prince. His body moved against hers and he was hard. He tilted his head, the shock of black hair waving with the motion of his head. His ears were large and incredibly sensitive; she loved how he responded to her when she touched him there.

Vegeta’s tail came back around him and the tip pressed itself against the side of her face, urging. In response, she stuck the tip of her tongue into his ear.

Vegeta bowed up like an arrow had hit him in the spine and Bulma let out a satisfied sound, loving the feeling of the muscles of his arms and shoulders in her hands.

_There has never been a more fuckable man…_

>_>_>_

_Ah, Gods…_

When she touched his ears, Vegeta felt like he would explode. There was something about his ears that made the rest of his body move in expectation. Bulma had her hands on his biceps, her belly pushed up against the erection that wanted to breach the waist band of his sleeping clothes. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to let her keep doing what she was doing to his ears. He pressed down with his pelvis.

_I want to fuck her. Hard._

Vegeta lifted himself up and pushed the fabric covering him down until he could kick it off his feet. Bulma lifted her hips and moved the panties she was wearing away, throwing them on the floor to join Vegeta’s discarded clothing. The blue triangle that pointed to her to sex was a beacon that drew her lover like gravity does water.

The Saiyan slid down the outstretched body of the woman, his tail trailing the places where his mouth kissed her. Without preamble, he ran his tongue inside the swollen petals that where her most pleasurable parts. She was sweet and he did it again just out of desire. Bulma arched up to bring herself closer, both hands digging into the bed clothes. But that isn’t what the Woman wanted. She let him lick her, opening her legs to give him greater access to the place he wanted to explore, but her hands moved to take hold of his hair. Bulma pulled and not in the way the way that meant she wanted him to stretch her. She pulled him back up.

Vegeta did not resist, he let her move him until he was looking down into the impossibly blue eyes he had wanted to see more than anything.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her eyes darting to the healing shade of bruising that were a natural consequence of knowing Kakarot.

Vegeta ignored the question, “Are you?” He touched the Woman’s lips with his own, “I am always such as asshole…”

She pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him the same way that he had kissed her. Her legs came up to wrap around him and she shifted under his body until he was one push away from being buried inside her.

“I am now,” she said into his mouth and bowed her body up, using her legs to seal herself against him, taking him to the root. Vegeta cried out, a deep moan that came from low in his chest. There was too much sensation all at once. Round, peaked breasts against his chest and her hot open mouth, the deep well she opened for him of pressure and honey.

He only moved inside her for a few moments before his climax was upon him. He knew it was too fast, she wasn’t ready but the way she clenched her muscles around him threw him over the cliff and Vegeta came hard. He felt himself empty his need into her, both in extasy and anger at denying her.

Bulma rode him from beneath, taking his thunderous pleasure. Her arms softened as he relaxed, smoothing over his skin from the nape of his neck to the base of his tail. Vegeta let his weight down and rested his cheek in the curve of her shoulder, her small body a comfort. He felt ashamed of his lack self-control; grateful for her acceptance.

There was no need to speak until Bulma's stomach broke the quiet in the chamber. Vegeta lifted his head and then his body, pulling her up into a sitting position with him. He Let his eyes roam over the Woman, using his enhanced sight to see her clearly. She appeared tired, as though the few minutes of exertion had drained her. Her already milky skin was missing some of it’s peach and her hair didn’t shine the way it usually did. But her eyes were bright, luminous in the half light.

_I didn’t even notice that she looks ill..Fucking monster._

Vegeta could smell the food Bulma had brought earlier. Being Saiyan, there was little that he did not believe could not be fixed by a fully belly.

“You’ve not been eating,” he admonished, taking the platter and placing it in front of her. Vegeta took a grape and pressed it against her lips, urging her to take it. He watched it slip into her mouth. Bulma swallowed, pushed the hand holding another offering away from her face and crawled into his lap.

“I don’t want food. Just let me..be with you,” she said from under his chin, arms around his waist. This confused Vegeta a little. It was not really like her to be irrational and he could tell that she was hungry. But her curled against him was pleasant, he wanted her there. He slipped an arm around her to hold her close to him and this time she took another bite.

She would not take much, not nearly as much as he knew from experience she was capable of eating when she had worked herself up.

He actually thought she might have started to drift off again when Bulma stiffened in his arms. She pushed at him and when he released her, she scrambled off the bed. She wrapped her own arm around herself, a pinched expression on her delicate face.

“What?” he began but she cut him off.

“I need a few minutes!” she exclaimed, chalk white and trembling to his keen vision. Vegeta started to stand up, one hand out to steady her. Bulma backed away and then with one hand pressed to her mouth simply fled the room.

He was thankful that her own chamber was so close; she still had nothing covering her. He tugged his sleeping clothes back on and followed her, padding softly into the open door of her room. She had gone into the bathroom and locked the door, but he could hear her. She was breathing fast and making little retching sounds.

Vegeta fought off the instant impulse to rip the door out of its moorings. Opting for a much more gentle tap and calling out to her instead.

“Go ‘way!” she cried in a brittle voice that made him stare at the damned door in consternation. Before he could say anything else, Vegeta heard the Woman turn on the water in her big, deep tub full blast.

“I need some human time, Vegeta,” she said from inside, “It’s a female thing. You don’t want to know.” Her voice indeed sounded a bit more steady and he was pretty certain that she was right in his not wanting to know, so he backed away but he didn’t leave.

Vegeta tried to catch the sound of whatever she was doing but the cascade of the water was too loud. He even tipped his face to the seam of the door and inhaled, trying to see if that would yield any fresh information.

_Gods’ damned synthetic scents._

“Bulma?” he called, unwilling to leave without knowing what was wrong with her. She made an angry noise and threw something at the door.

“I’ll come back. Just let me be for a little while,” she answered rather tersely. After a few moments, she spoke again and this time her voice was softer, consoling, “I’m alright, Vegeta. Promise.”

Vegeta stood immobile for several more moments, unable to decide what to do. The water ceased its noise and he caught the sound of her sliding into it. He frowned, laying his hand on the door.

_What I don’t know about human females could apparently fill several books. I hate ignorance._

Slowly, the Prince returned to his room, closing the door behind him. A wash sounded good and he needed to move around, sitting and waiting was just not an option. While he scrubbed his skin again with the soap he knew she liked him to use, Vegeta reflected on the fact that he knew so little about the race whose planet he was sharing. So little about the Woman whose body he had used in what he considered such a callous manner. That would have to be remedied. The tablet computer would provide the science he needed, but that would have to studied in private. With that resolve, he finished his bathing ritual and went back into the main room without bothering to put any clothing on. The marks on his body were still healing and it felt better not to have fabric, no matter how soft, touching him just then.

He opened the little tablet and pulled up his music list, playing a selection of piano concertos that calmed his mind. The little candles beckoned to him and he lit them. The reflections in the glass lit the room in a flickering and seductive light that he absolutely adored. There was nothing to be done for the sand garden other than to water the succulents and after that, he was restless again.

Spying the pitcher of red juice Bulma brought, Vegeta picked it up and without taking time to waste a clean glass drained half the big container. It wasn’t what he thought it was, there was a bite to it that he knew meant the liquid contained alcohol.

A strong heat made a place for itself in his middle and Vegeta decided he quite liked the feeling. It was dulling the turmoil in his mind. Unused to booze, he quickly found himself tipped. It was not a bad feeling. There were too many things racing around in his mind. Too many of those fucking _emotions_ that he didn’t know how to deal with. The burning drink made some of that slip away and the Prince was grateful.

The pitcher of the strong red wine was large but the Saiyan finished it that way he finished everything that was to be consumed. Quickly. He threw on a robe and went down to the kitchens and looking around one of the refrigerators, found what he assumed was the pitcher Bulma had meant to take, the one that actually contained cranberry juice. He took that as well as another few of the long-necked bottles that stored the red wine.

_Why not? Even emotionally disturbed monsters deserve a little peace. Bulma called it constructive alcoholism._

He stopped to stick his head into Bulma’s room on the way back to his. Her bathroom door was still closed, but he could hear her. The feminine _shush_ of a brush through hair.

Vegeta returned to his room and deposited the various containers on the table with what remained of the food on the tray.

_Shoulda gotten more food._

He opened one of the bottles of dark wine and tilted it up to his lips.

_Fuck it. This is made from fruit and fruit is food (sort of) so this is almost just like eating…_

He swayed in the open space of his room to the melody of a piano wrapping itself around a panflute. Muzzy and glowing with just the slightest hint of his golden aura, the Prince let his mind wander.

He’d been on so many planets in his lifetime. But none could compare in the slightest with Earth.

_Not even my home world…if I’m honest…_

No other planet had the wealth or diversity of the nature as the third planet from Sol. No planet had the pantheon of incredible foods to be found on it either. He looked at the bottle in his right hand. Even food that had begun to ferment, which usually meant they were unfit for consumption, were good on this wonderful dirt rock. Vegeta finished the wine and immediately opened another bottle, vaguely wondering what exactly was taking the Woman so long. He let the music throb in his chest. Earth music was a thing of glory.

Earth women were a thing of glory.

_Just one Woman, really. My Woman._

There were many versions of female to be found in the galaxy. But The Woman, _Bulma,_ he thought with a small, private smile, was above compare. There was no such beauty anywhere else to be found in all of endless space.

Vegeta dropped his robe, sat down on his bed and took yet another sanity sustaining gulp of blood red wine. He put the bottle on the bedside table and let his body fall over backward. He wrapped his tail around his waist, holding his cock against his stomach in the usual way and rolled over on his belly. A huge yawn made him shudder deliciously as he stretched his powerful frame out to it’s fullest. The soreness of his muscles was less but still quite evident, it felt very good to release the tension of tendon and ligament.

Vegeta had pulled a pillow under his head and was a pile of boneless relaxation when his bedroom door opened. He opened his eyes and deliberately focused on the figure advancing on him. He smiled but didn’t move, just watching her in the dancing light.

Bulma looked much improved. The colour was back in her cheeks and her hair was a sleek fall around her face and shoulders. She was wearing some sort of diaphanous material that did little to hide her shape or the fact that there was nothing under the short gown. She stopped by the bed and gazed down at him, a tiny smile playing over her coral lips and bringing up the corners of her shining eyes.

_Mmmm._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team four Star. Thank you...Your are amazing. I've watched the Broly at least 50 times and it never gets old. Check out the channel on YouTube by Efriz_, that will make everyday better if you love Vegeta. Thank you for reading my work. Love, Love and more. Back to Efriz_   
> That channel is amazing and under valued. Sometimes I watch just because it gives me a way to work.   
> So much love.

Chapter 13

>_>_>_

The sight that met Bulma was wholly unexpected and heart searingly devastating. Vegeta had lit his chamber with the little candles that turned the room into a dance of shadows, his music wafting out of the tablet in a spiral of sound. He was laid out on his bed in all his naked beauty, the very image of male perfection and no sign of self-consciousness. He looked up at her, black eyes wide open but softer than she had seen them before, his lips parted just a tiny bit and smiling without his signature smirk. He had obviously bathed, she breathed in the masculine scent of his soap and that of the pheromone musk that was unique to him alone.

Bulma knelt down by the bed to better look at his face. She had never seen him so relaxed or so utterly at peace as he appeared at that moment and she wanted to memorize it. He reached out with one hand and cupped her face, his thumb running over her bottom lip, hand so warm.  

“Are you well?” he asked. His voice was deep, raspy.

_Sexy._

She curved her own hand over the back of his neck, tender and exposed. She massaged the spot and he purred in that way he had when what she was doing felt good.

“I am fine now. It’s a passing thing,” she replied, turning her face into his hand to breathe a kiss onto the palm. He lifted his head a few inches and leveled her with a black stare.

“Will you tell me what was wrong with you?”

Bulma climbed up on the bed and over him to the other side, looking at the bottle on the night table.

“Not now,” she said and laughed. Looking over her shoulder she saw that wasn’t the only victim of Saiyan indulgence. Given the huge and very empty pitcher on the bigger table near the center of the room and the other empty bottle keeping it company she was actually surprised he was still awake. That was vintage wine, strong and old. No wonder he was such a puddle of contentment.

She went to the table to fetch the full pitcher of juice and pouring a glass, drank for her thirst. He watched her over his shoulder until she returned, bringing the last bottle of wine and her glass with her. He reached out and took the half empty bottle he’d been working on and drained it, making her laugh softly.

When she had curled back up beside him and resumed her massaging, Vegeta lowered his head back to the pillow and sighed.

“That feels good,” he murmured, muffled by the pillow, “I love it when you touch me.”

Bulma bit her lips. It hurt to look at him. All shadows and curves, an impossible reality that had no equal. She could see the darker shades under his skin but there were no fresh wounds. Bulma traced the scars that crisscrossed his wide back and shoulders, feeling the power of him when he flexed against her hands.

“Don’t move, Prince Vegeta,” The Woman ordered and left the room for a moment. She was back a few seconds later and when she climbed up on the bed this time, she straddled his back, sitting on the slope of his ass just under his tail. Vegeta started to lift his head, but the pressure of her hand on the back stopped it and he let his face go back into the fat feather pillow, eyes closed.

Bulma opened the bottle of oil she’d taken from her bathroom and rubbed a good amount of it between her palms to warm it. Using the flat of her hands, she spread it over the Prince’s skin from the nape of his neck to his narrow waist. Then she leaned forward to use her weight to aid her and dug her fingers in the grooved muscles of his broad and firm shoulders.

Vegeta let out a long breath, pulling his arms out from under the pillow.

“Bulma…” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut briefly in pleasure. A hot jolt ran through the Woman like an electric shock hearing him say her name that way. He was very warm, as was his natural way, hard and solid under her hands and between her legs. She pressed her thighs together around the flare of his hips, aware of the nearly feminine dip of his waist that wasn’t really feminine at all.

The oil was the perfect smoothness, allowing her glide over his skin and find the places that needed massaging. But she touched him everywhere. Bulma wanted not one inch of his skin to be missed. She worked over his shoulders and his back, down each thick arm and to his hands.

Vegeta was still, making small purring sounds of delight when she found and focused on a tender spot. She took his hand and laced her fingers through his, which must have felt good to him because Vegeta opened his eyes to watch her.

Touching him like this was having anything but a relaxing effect on Bulma, however. The oil slid and slipped in the most sensuous way, purely erotic. It made him shine in the candle light. Bulma released his hand and oiled him again, her breathing erratic and a heavy feeling inside her.

“Close your eyes.”

Vegeta turned until he could see her, some of the gild from the wine fading from his gaze. Bulma leaned down and kissed him. Just the softest of kisses, the lightest of licking his lips.

Then she took the wine and opened it, giving him the bottle. Vegeta took it but watched her instead of drinking it. Bulma went to his closet and rummaged for a moment. Vegeta propped himself up on his elbow, intrigued. He tipped the wine bottle up and swallowed, again and again, eyes on the Woman.

Bulma found what she wanted and came back to him carrying the belt of a gi. Vegeta did not train wearing the traditional uniform of a martial artist, but he had been gifted with a few since coming to Earth. Bulma waited until Vegeta had obediently drained most of the bottle, then took it.

“Trust?” she asked, kissed him very deeply, tied the belt around his head; covering his eyes.

“Woman,” Vegeta returned, just the barest hint of uncertainty in his voice.

She didn’t reply. He would find out what she had in mind with no other sensory input from his eyes or his hears. He would _feel_ her.

She ran her hands over his hair. His neck. Gradually, Vegeta lowered his head back down and the tension went out of him again. Bulma pulled the dress up over her head and tossed it away. There would be nothing between their skins but the slut of the oil.

Bulma poured the oil over her chest, spreading it all over herself from her neck to her knees. She poured it over the blind folded Prince, making sure to cover him to the very bottoms of his feet. Vegeta moaned and his hands fisted in the comforter, it was an extraordinary sensation to have unseen hands caress his body in that way.

Bulma slid over him, this time laying herself against his back so he could feel every female part of her on him. Her industrious hands touched all the most sensitive spots on his torso, his waist and his hip. She rubbed her stomach over the round curve of his perfect ass, letting her lubricated thigh slide between his legs and pressed against him from behind.

She was not disappointed in the Prince’s reaction. His arms tensed and he turned his face into the pillow, unable to keep the sound of what she was doing to him silent.  Bulma pressed her wet and oiled pussy to the back of his corded thighs, letting him feel her open petals grinding against him.

>_>_>_

Vegeta lost his breath, drowning in an ocean of sightless feeling. Bulma seemed to touch him everywhere not kept from her hands by the position he lay in on the bed. Her entire body was saturated with oil, even her hair. He felt it glide across his lower back when she slipped down to run her lips over the base of his tail. The undersides of her full breasts on the side of his ribcage and the pointed nipples drawing designs between his shoulder blades when she kissed his ears, nipped at his neck.

He wanted to touch her, desperately. He had started to move, to try and reach for her. Bulma bit at him, dropping her weight on his back and wrapping his wrists with her slick fingers.

“Move and I will tie you down, Mighty Prince!” she had hissed into his ear. Vegeta took out his helpless frustration on the comforter, but he stayed still. He’d screamed softly into the poor pillow at the feeling of her open sex on his skin, her thigh pressed to the sac under his cock.

He was drunk. He knew that and somehow it made what she was doing to him even more intense. He didn’t think or analyze, he just let himself _feel_.

Bulma sat up again, this time her weight rested on the backs of his knees. She ran both hands over his bottom, squeezing the hard hillocks. His tail tightened around him when she oiled it and stroked the wet fur. It made Vegeta aware of the fact that he was lying on his stomach and that there was a growing problem with this particular position.

Two breaths later he forgot about that entirely. Bulma, using her legs to part his, ran her fingertips over the tightly furled opening she had once promised to violate. Vegeta jerked, almost unseating the little Woman. She laughed and bent down, pressing her generous tits against the slope of his ass, those fingers making deliberate circles in a place that had never been touched before.

Vegeta bit the inside of his cheek, simultaneously wanting to rip the blindfold off and flip Bulma onto her back and also to let her continue with her explorations because it felt both alien and intriguing.

Vegeta chose the latter. One by one he relaxed the muscles that drew in by instinct. Bulma took this as encouragement and made him jerk again in gasping surprise when she pressed her face to the split and licked him.

“Open for me,” she requested from behind and below, cupping his balls with one hand, pressing against his asshole with the other.

“Fuck…” Vegeta gritted out, low and strangled, but he did as he was told.

“Exactly,” Bulma murmured, licking him again, more completely now that he’d spread his legs.

>_>_>_

This had to be the most erotic and possibly depraved thing Bulma had ever done. But it didn’t feel wrong in anyway at all. There was no part of Vegeta that she didn’t want to touch, to taste. She knew from experience how massive the pleasure from an anal orgasm could be and also that she wanted to be the one to give this new pleasure to her Prince.

She was dripping with the heady rush of the power he was giving her over him. This body, carved from granite and steel lay open and ready for the taking.

_Destroyer that nearly destroyed me. You are mine now._

She cupped him tenderly, licking the forbidden little entrance until he relaxed. Vegeta was panting, his tail wrapped so tightly around his waist that it was clinching him. She needed to gentle him. So, she kissed him the way he had kissed her. Vegeta moaned, his hands white knuckled in the blanket. With patience, Bulma licked and touched Vegeta, rewarded by a gradual lessening of the way he held himself.

Bulma smiled against the slick skin of his inner thigh and touched the pink place that throbbed at the contact. She took a deep breath and bit down on Vegeta’s thigh, her thin finger sliding deep into him.

Vegeta bowed up, his whole body moving at once. A loud, shattering cry was ripped from his throat that resembled her name. He lifted the bottom half of his body off the bed on his toes and shuddered with the effort it took not to close his legs and crush the Woman, she could feel it in the way the his incredibly powerful legs shook.

Bulma recklessly curled her finger, sucking at the place where her teeth had marked him. Vegeta was shaking and she loved it. He lowered himself back to the bed a centimeter at a time but he kept his shoulders up, his head hanging down so his forehead just touched the pillow. Bulma rose up enough to look at him.

It was an overwhelmingly sexy sight. He glowed. Really glowed. Both from the oil and from his own aura which flared around him like faint sunlight. He made quiet little sounds that made her insides and her heart pound. Bulma opened her mouth and kissed the fold of his buttock. The ring of muscle around her extended finger softened and Vegeta lowered his head back to the bed, mastering his body with the lifetime of control only a warrior can know.

Bulma used this moment to fit another finger into his tight opening.

Vegeta reared up again, “FUCK!” His aura snapped, threatening to blow out the candles (or the walls) with the power the Prince’s arousal carried.

“Yes…Oh yes, Vegeta,” Bulma said against his hot skin and pumped him with her hand. He snarled, the sound rough and feral but actually spread his legs a little wider. Bulma turned her hand, making a scissor with her fingers, keeping the stimulation constant. The fact that Vegeta was so wet eased him and when she pressed her ring finger inside him, he didn’t contract with the same crushing strength as before. Vegeta relaxed again and Bulma knew he was becoming accustomed to the feeling of her moving inside him, just as he had taught her when he showed her this kind of painful pleasure.

Bulma poured more oil over him and started to move in a slow rhythm, barely able to breath anymore because she was aroused to the point that her chest didn’t work right. Vegeta moved against her, pushing back when she pushed in. Bulma let her fingers slip out, taking a moment to play with his testicles and reaching further under him, for the root of his cock.

Vegeta was fully engorged, his cock beating with the frantic pace of his heart. Bulma had never felt him so big, never heard him make the breathless panting pleas he couldn’t keep quiet. She pumped her fingers into him again, harder this time.

Vegeta lifted his hips, offering himself, crying out mindlessly. Bulma rose up, holding him by the waist and fucked him in earnest, letting her hand sink in to her knuckles and curling her fingers against the smooth node inside him that forced such stunning sounds from his chest.

She wanted to dominate. To own. To take him. Bulma moved until she was behind the Prince, urging him to rise up onto his knees. She pressed the base of her hand against her own dripping center and taking a firm hold of Vegeta’s narrow waist, pumped her hips hard, forcing her hand deep inside him.

They cried out to each other, wordless, thoughtless desire that echoed. Bulma exalted in the experience of being on the giving end of such a primal act, the feeling of his perfectly shaped ass on her thighs, the opening tight around her fingers. The sight of him bent and heaving in front of her, shining- there was no way to give it words.

_Take it, Prince! Feel Me Fucking You…_

>_>_>_

It was too much and yet he needed more. Robbed of his sight, Vegeta was losing his sanity. Without either sight or control, his body fell into pure instinct. This pleasure was torture.

Vegeta’s tail uncoiled from around him. It switched dangerously for a moment and then whipped around him, under him. The gigantic erection he’d been holding since the beginning of this experiment was too painful to keep contained. He’d never felt so full, so unbelievably heavy. As soon as he released it his cock spilled a load of clear fluid onto the bed that was just as slick as the oil that covered most of his body.

Bulma penetrated him again, deeply, his body stretching open and the node inside him sending lightning through his whole body, ricocheting until it centered in the base of his cock. His tail wrapped around it, as tight as could he hold himself and stroked the extreme length of the engorged organ. He would have done anything to relieve the pressure built to explosion in his overstimulated body.

Bulma slammed into him again and again, crying out behind him. He could hear the need and tension in her voice, she was at a breaking point where her raw nerves where begging for release.

“Vegeta, I need you…” she was crying out to him. The Prince set himself and made his tail unwind. He found her waist with it and slid it around her and down. When Bulma felt the tip, pointed and rigid against her she opened her legs. But before he could thrust, she moved again. Her hips backed away from him and her weight shifted. Her hand turned inside him, but she didn’t withdraw.

Bulma laid down and pushed herself underneath Vegeta. He felt her mouth touch his lower belly and then he nearly died. Her hot, open mouth ran the length of his cock, closing around it and swallowing. Her fingers were still inside him, not as deeply as before but it no longer mattered. He was already open and she pumped him fast, using her free hand to lock onto his thigh and hold herself in place.

Vegeta ran his tail down Bulma’s body, found her pussy and this time when he made to thrust, he found her hole waiting for him. Vegeta couldn’t and didn’t try to hold back, he stiffened his powerful tail and drove it into her until she could not take anymore. His hips flexed and Bulma took him with her mouth as much as she could, hungrily sucking. She moved her fingers within him, finding the spot and working it almost abusively. Vegeta was too far gone for anything else. He gave back, reaming her with his tail, knowing she was past the point of really needing her clit touched anymore.

Vegeta felt it, the heat and the chaos of his body surging.

“Bulma, back away!” he screamed urgently, “Get away from me! Now!”

He was too close to her and there was too much energy built up inside him to contain. He tried to pull away. To lift himself off of her, maybe even to fly. All Vegeta knew was he wasn’t certain whatever he was right then would not hurt or kill her.

But Bulma didn’t care. His order to release him was met with a hard thrust into him, an insane amount of suction from deep in her throat and her hand around his tail to keep him fucking her.

He couldn’t hold back. Vegeta opened his mouth and a terrible roar tore loose from some unknown place, shaking the room. His fists shredded the bed. Vegeta arched and drove his cock into the open mouth of the Woman without mercy, his ass tightening brutally around her buried hand, his tail so far inside and so unyielding that she screamed around him. The Prince came with a force that detonated his body like an atomic bomb. The orgasm ravaged him, shredded him. It came from every part of his body, flowing toward the center until it could not longer be contained by the flesh and exploded. Energy, cum and crazy poured out of Vegeta until there was nothing left.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Vegeta was first aware of a great sense of the most profound sense of completion he had ever known. His body and mind were exhausted but clear. It took a while before an awareness of his body really returned; still he made no effort to move. Gradually, the Prince found his own limbs again. He reached up and touched his face, pulled what was left of the gi belt away from his eyes.

Vegeta found that he was lying on his side. He pushed himself up and tried to make sense of what he was seeing but it was rather like his brain needed a moment to reboot. He shook his head, trying to bring the sense of clarity he had inside his mind to bear on what rest of reality.

_Bulma…_

Vegeta shot off the bed, eyes roving the room in a near panic. She was there. He threw the shredded blanket off of her and lifted the Woman. The room was…destroyed.

_Please no…please no…no.no.no_

Vegeta curled her against him and laid his ear in her chest. Unlike the room, Bulma did not bear any scorch marks and she was not hanging from his hands in ribbons. Over the pounding of his own heart, Vegeta could hear hers. She was breathing and she was warm.

There was no place for him to lie her out and look at her. Whatever he’d just done had showered the room with glass from the shattered windows. Plaster from the walls and ceiling.

He kicked the door to the room open and walked out, carrying Bulma. Vegeta checked the house but didn’t find her parents. If there was ever a time for them to be mercifully out somewhere this would be it. He laid her on her own bed, holding her face in his hands.

“Bulma? Wake up!” he said into her face urgently, shaking her. He wished he had a Senzu, a Namekian healer, a doctor. Vegeta could treat field injuries readily enough but he couldn’t see what was wrong with her. Running his hands over her, he looked for broken bones. For anything that would explain why she was unconscious.

“Bulma!” Vegeta yelled, loudly, shaking her again. This time her eyes fluttered. It took several very long minutes but she opened her eyes. He got the impression that she had the same need to reconfigure as he had, so he simply held her until her eyes cleared and she attempted to sit up.

Staring into her face, Vegeta held her steady, “Are you alright? Can you speak?”

_I seem to have to ask if I’ve hurt her every 10 minutes. Fucking monster…_

Bulma focused on his face.

“Vegeta,” she whispered. She slipped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. He didn’t pull back when she kissed him. It was that kind of kiss that felt like worship.

“That was the most…” Bulma tried but she couldn’t think of words that could describe what has just happened. Instead, she tried to kiss him again.

“No, Bulma.”

Vegeta set her away from him and put some distance between himself and the Woman. She didn’t know what he’d done to his chamber, that he has demolished yet another part of her home. He looked away and took a steadying breath.

“I blew up my-“

“I know. I saw,” she interrupted and crawled toward him over the dark, royal blue satin of her huge bed.

That got his attention.

“What did you see? What happened?” he demanded, facing her intently. Perhaps something she had seen could explain the very strange way that he felt. It wasn’t a bad feeling but something had changed and he could not quantify the difference.

Bulma gazed at him with such affection that it made Vegeta uncomfortable. She touched his face, “You exploded.” Her hand drifted back down to rest on his folded leg. She just looked at him, taking in the small details of his face. She was perfectly and almost unsettlingly calm.

Vegeta covered his eyes for a long moment, then ran his fingers through his hair violently, “I don’t understand.”

_You will._

Looking at her Vegeta realized she wasn’t in the very least fussed over the damage to her house. She wasn’t in any visible way upset with him at all. Bulma sensed to be focused more on the experience they had just shared, which Vegeta knew was the most transcendent of his entire life.

His face relaxed and the Saiyan took a lock of her hair in his fingers.

“Every time I think you’ve reached your limit you amaze me again,” he said quietly.

_My Prince, you have no idea how ironic it is that you just said that._

“How is it that you are not hurt? The room is wrecked but you remain untouched.” he asked, very seriously, playing with her hair to distract himself from his dark thoughts.

Bulma thought about it for a while. Vegeta had been blindfolded. He could not have seen what she saw.

“The aura protected us, none of the, um, flying room could touch us,” she said finally and then laughed. Vegeta stared at her, frowning.

“And you are not angry?”

“It’s just a building, Vegeta. To feel that again, I would gladly rebuild the entire compound,” Bulma answered and there was not a single hint of sarcasm or facetiousness in her tone.

“I don’t understand you. At all,” he said, but it had no bite. Vegeta was exhausted, he felt as if his soul had been sucked out and replaced by something else. He turned away from her and yawned.

Bulma ran her hands up his back, pressing her cheek against him, “Vegeta, let’s sleep now. I’m _spent._ ”

The Prince chuffed, not quite a laugh and not quite not a laugh, “Vulgar Woman.”

>_>_>_

Vegeta knew something was definitely wrong with the Woman. He tried to get her to tell him what was going on with her but Bulma, in her typically stubborn way, would say nothing other than she was perfectly fine.

_Perfectly fine, my stupid Saiyan ass…_

The Woman was NOT fine. She was strange and quiet. He watched her closely whenever they were together over the next days and she was not herself at all. She spent a great deal of time working on the GR, going far past the upgrades he had asked for. That in itself was not out of character. It was the way she behaved that worried him.

Bulma was brash, opinionated and stubborn. She was challenging and provocative. She was quite often mean. In his way, Vegeta admired all those things about her. They denoted a strength of character that he respected.

Since the night of the explosion, since she had pushed him so far into mindless extasy that he still had no memory of anything but blinded pleasure and a release that had remade him, Bulma was changed.

He observed her; monitored her ki, her scent, the sound of her heart. But he didn’t know what was different, exactly.

When they were alone, she was very affectionate. Not aggressive or demanding, more sweet and seeking. Bulma spent a good deal of time just touching Vegeta, there was no part of his skin that she did not want to lay her hands on until she knew every contour. She let him explore her in anyway he wanted, coming back again and again for the pleasure of his touch.

They made love often, that hadn’t changed, only the manner of it. Where she had been rough, now she was supremely gentle. She was still demanding, coming to find him during the day to distract him from his training to spend hours wrapped naked around each other. For all his protesting that he was losing ground with all the hours he should have spent working, he always let her persuade him. There was just no way to say no to the Woman.

At night they now slept exclusively in her chambers. There was a team of work men employed in rebuilding his room, but neither of them had the desire to sleep alone anymore. Vegeta was very grateful to Bulma on one major account. He had not been home when her parents returned from whatever probably not important business had caused them to miss the big boom that took out a section of their house. Bulma had covered the situation neatly by telling them that she had taken a new kind of battle bot to Vegeta’s room to show the warrior and it had violently malfunctioned, blowing up the house. And if not for the nearly indestructible nature of Saiyan’s, she herself would have been demolished with the room.

Her weird and loving parents had both hugged a horribly uncomfortable Vegeta upon his return, thanking him for protecting their most precious from exploding inventions. That had been made worse by the fact that Bulma had not had the chance to warn Vegeta of the cover story before he unknowingly walking into overflowing gratitude. It made her hide behind her hand, watching Vegeta’s face burn bright red in the embrace of both her parents when he had no idea.

She had very thoughtfully replaced his little garden and candles, making a place for him to mediate in their shared chamber. His tablet had been replaced as well, thankfully nothing of importance lost due to backups on the compound’s server. Even that was not really out of character for the Woman. She often committed acts of kindness that surprised him.

It was other things. The times that she would simply sit and stare out the window, silent and motionless for long periods of time. She slept more than he thought she had since he’d known her. Bulma’s usually boundless energy and near insomnia where replaced by a new love of sleeping. Her famous coffee addiction had been replaced by an inexplicable obsession with herbal teas. She often tried to get Vegeta to drink these concoctions and most were hideous to his taste.

When he asked what purpose these potions had, she would calmly aver that they calmed her stomach or made her hungry when she found her appetite not up to snuff. That was another issue bothering Vegeta. She did not eat the way she had. She would go for long periods of time and take no food at all. Then without explanation or apology she would Kakarot her way through several thousand calories at once. She ate odd things, too, that even an alien had to question. Vegeta could not see why anyone had ever created pickles, let alone why anyone else would eat them. Bitter nasty things.

_Leave it to a human to find a way to make a cucumber more worthless._

He had spared again with Kakarot and run that idea by the other Saiyan. Even Tall and Dumb had agreed that cucumbers in any incarnation should be burned and buried. But Bulma ate them every day.

All that he would have overlooked as just the weirdness of women. Maybe. But there was something else. Bigger and deeper. Different. When she looked at Vegeta he could see something behind her eyes. Something that had not been there before.

He’d tried to figure a way to get her to tell him, but Vegeta didn’t have the skill to get anything out of a woman like Bulma. He was too straight forward; manipulation wasn’t in his nature. If he questioned her at night, she would kiss him into silence, making him loose his train of thought in her version of sensual combat. 

Vegeta was not a stupid or thick man, inexperienced with human interactions as he might have been. He was a master of reading his enemy and he trusted his instincts when they told him someone was hiding something. He knew there was _something_. He just couldn’t figure out what Bulma would feel that much need to hide from him.

>_>_>_

The weeks that went by were privately rather wonderful for Vegeta and Bulma. They kept their relationship private; besides Kakarot and Bulma’s parents, no one knew. Vegeta wanted it that way and Bulma didn’t consider it anyone else’s business. They more or less avoided each other in company. Vegeta would not allow Bulma to touch him if other people where around. In his royally raised opinion affection was something only to be shared between two people behind very thick, very closed doors.

This would have bothered and hurt, probably angered, Bulma before she met Vegeta and she knew it. But, when they had spoken about it, she found that it didn’t really bother her at all. I wasn’t that he didn’t care to touch her or be touched. Vegeta held such acts to be sacred in a way and never to be shared with other people. It would be disrespectful of her to do something so private in public.

_Vulgar._

And a Saiyan Prince could not show such weakness. To show such preference would give his enemies a weapon to use against him and would put her in danger.

It was a core belief in Vegeta’s mind and Bulma accepted it as such _._

_No one ever said being with a Crowned Prince would be easy._

As long as she could have him when they were alone, she was happy. And Vegeta denied her nothing in their chambers. It was only the times that she caught him looking her at with those intelligent black eyes narrowed, that Bulma worried.

>_>_>_

Vegeta laid beside Bulma, the woman half on top of his stomach and dead asleep. She had wanted to lounge in bed after dinner and watch a movie and he had let himself be talked into it. Usually, he would have gone back to the training grounds he’d claimed for himself until after dark, but she had looked so inviting that he’d taken the night off. Bulma had made it through about half the movie. He wasn’t surprised.

But he couldn’t sleep. Vegeta flipped the TV off and it retreated to the recess where it hid, out of sight, when not in use. For a long time, he simply laid still, twisting a lock of blue hair around his nimble fingers, minding wandering aimlessly. Then Bulma shifted in her sleep.

She moved her head and when he looked down at her, Vegeta caught sight of the place where he had bitten her. He had resisted the desire to repeat the act that he didn’t understand and rather hated himself for.

_Sick fuck._

The wound had long since healed and vanished, but he had not forgotten. He peered at the spot. It still made no sense why he’d wanted to do that in the first place or why the desire had been so incredible.

Experimentally, the Prince bent down and pressed his nose against the place between Bulma’s neck and shoulder. He inhaled deeply, a number of times. Of course, he could smell her, but the blood lust did not come. In fact, he realized, scenting her again he would have loathed to do it. Confused by this, Vegeta buried his face in Bulma’s tousled hair. She smelled good, fetching, female and in no way did he have any urge at all to draw blood. The thought was grotesque.

_I hate ignorance! Earth women make no sense and I hate it…_

That thought brought back a memory. Very carefully, Vegeta extricated himself from under the Woman and tucked her warmly into the big bed. He paused to throw on a thick robe and went to the table where he kept his few personal things. The tablet was there.

_The internet really is a work of art…_

>_>_>_

 

Chapter 13

Bulma rolled over in bed and reached for Vegeta. She sighed. It wasn’t at all unusual for the Prince to be gone when she woke. He rose by dawn at the latest to train. But she was always just a little bereft at an empty bed. She buried her face in his pillow and breathed before opening her eyes to face the day.

Vegeta was not training. Vegeta was not moving. He was still in the room. Bulma sat up.

“Vegeta? What are you doing?” she asked tentatively, fear rising in her throat.

The great Prince was dressed in his full compliment of battle armour, floating motionless about 4 feet off the floor before the big glass doors that led to the balcony. He had his arms tightly crossed over his chest, staring out in the morning light.

She knew he’d heard her. His brows had come down at the sound of her voice. Bulma was looking at Vegeta in profile and it was a scary sight. He was very intimidating when outfitted for war at the best of times. The grim set of his mouth, the stone expression on his sharp features made her remember that this man was a destroyer of worlds and quite capable of massacre on a truly unimaginable scale.

“Vegeta?” she repeated, pulling the covering up to her throat. As though the ballistic protection of the down comforter would be able to stop Vegeta.

He descended until his boots touched the floor. His arms came down to his sides, fisted and flexed. He was moving in that way he had that was anything but human. Too slow. Too precise. Too graceful.

His head turned and the hell of his eyes, narrow and glittering, locked onto to the small woman. Bulma paled and fought the urge to back away. He turned. Again, it was inhuman. It made something in Bulma recoil in primitive fear. How easy it was, when he was warm and loving, to forget that Vegeta was an alien. A former murderer. A warrior. A Prince.

And he was more unimaginably, lividly, soul splittingly pissed than Bulma had ever seen him.

…

“Where you going to tell me?” Vegeta’s voice was too low and the darkness that inflected it tasted like sulfur.

Bulma’s mouth was too dry to speak, her heart hammering to fast to push the blood into her shocked brain. She stupidly shook her head, not in answer to his question, but she couldn’t answer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Bitterness and betrayal.

Bulma just stared at him, her eyes overly wide. She was shaking visibly, frozen in place.

Vegeta took two steps toward her and smirked when she jerked violently in reflex.

“A little late for that, don’t you think? The time for you to escape me has passed, _Bulma.”_

Vegeta had never looked so cruel. Not on Namek. Not when he had come to Earth to kill Kakarot. Not even he’d stood over the bloody bodies of entire races.

Bulma’s blue eyes filled with tears. She lowered her head to bury her face in the blankets. She had known since she’d hit the safety on the GR that Vegeta would have to know the truth. She had known that she would be dead to him when he found out. She’d known that he might very well actually kill her in his rage. This was so much worse.

He hadn’t moved when her made herself look up at him. She felt sick. Vegeta took another step and his aura flashed out around him. It tore through the room like a hurricane. His hair stood straight up like pointed midnight flame, blacker than anything except his eyes. Vegeta rose off the floor, the force of his fury rejecting the very gravity.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” Bulma cried into the tempest, her hair whipping painfully across her face. “I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. And I was afraid of what it would be like without you. I knew you’d hate me when you found out!”

Vegeta closed his eyes, visibly reaching into himself for control. The terrible power flowing out of him calmed. The wind stilled and the light around him settled back into a golden glow. He wasn’t any less furious. He was controlling it.

He lifted his head and looked down Bulma. She looked up into his face. His beautiful face. An avenging angel.

“What kind of man do you take me for?” he demanded in that dead voice that made her bleed inside. “Is that what you truly think of me, Bulma? Have I done nothing to show you that I…” Vegeta stopped and closed his eyes again, fighting with himself. To say that he had no emotions one would never had to have seen him look like did at that moment.

“I know what kind of man you are!” Bulma shot back, her own voice choked and thick. “That’s why I couldn’t make myself tell you. How do you say that to someone you- you-“ nothing else came out. She just cried.

“You what?!” Vegeta screamed back at her, the brutal light filling the chamber again as his temper rose, “Despise enough to omit that BIG of a truth?” He was losing it again, unable to quell the betrayal he felt.

“Love.”

Vegeta solidified in midair. Bulma met his eyes, “How could I tell you I am the reason why you fail to Ascend when I love you, Vegeta?”

Vegeta’s aura softened and he appeared to come back to life. He shook his head, staring at the pale Woman. His eyes glimmered but not with murderous rage. His expression morphed into one of consummate confusion. His body lowered to the floor for the second time.

When he spoke his voice cracked with sadness in a broken hearted whisper, “Why would you having my child stop me? Have you so little faith in me? Either as a man or a Saiyan?”

The world fell out from under Bulma and stopped moving around her. Her head spun and she knew she was going to faint. It was a strange moment because time seemed to slow down.

_Going to faint…_

One flash of that moment had Vegeta still poised across the room where he had landed. The next he was gone. And the next he was beside her, catching her before she could collapse off the side of the high bed on it raised dais.

He bent her forward, pushing her head down to help the blood flow back into the shocked brain.

“Breathe. Breathe,” Vegeta instructed, his hand on the back of her neck. Bulma swallowed, trying not to faint or vomit. He was right, air helped. Vegeta laid her carefully on her pillows and backed away from her.

Bulma couldn’t process anything. She focused on trying not to throw up. She focused on Vegeta’s face, which was now almost as pale as her own.

“Child?” she managed, gulping for air again.

Vegeta mistook her mind-numbing confusion for something else. He approached her, this time slowly and carefully. Emotions vied for command of his tortured face. When he was close enough to look directly down at her, his expression resolved into something that resembled tenderness for a long moment.

Vegeta held out his gloved hand, palm down over Bulma’s lower belly. His aura intensified and concentrated in his hand.

Fear ripped through the paralysis in Bulma’s mind, “No!” she screamed and scrambled away from him faster than her body had probably ever moved. What he had said had finally clicked into place. “Please don’t!” Bulma pressed her back against the headboard and wrapped her arms around herself.

Vegeta looked at her with all the pain in the world in his face. He backed away from her again. “Monster.”

Bulma could feel him gathering his ki. It wasn’t the spinning madness this time, he was doing it on purpose. She remembered. In another few seconds he would take to the sky. If he left now she would never see him again.

“I understand now, Vegeta. I understand everything,” Bulma stood up and walked over the top of the bed in his direction. Vegeta put his hands behind his back and watched her, waiting.

Bulma’s mind, ever sharp and moving, had put the pieces together. She felt the calmness of the past weeks returning, the clarity. The certainty.

Vegeta went still again.

“I wish you would stop doing that,” Bulma remarked so normally that Vegeta actually did a double take. She took his right hand from behind his back and began to tug his white glove off. “You look like you aren’t breathing when you freeze up like that. It’s unsettling,” she continued. Vegeta pulled his hand away but she reached out and took it back. “Don’t worry I won’t turn it inside out, I know you hate that.” His gloves were custom fitted and quite tight to protect his knuckles from splitting during a fight the way tape does for a boxer.

She slipped the glove off and tucked it into the ring of his tail as though she had done it a thousand times. Then she pressed his open hand over the bare skin of her lower abdomen.

She looked up at him, “You can sense it’s ki can’t you.”

Vegeta concentrated and his palm warmed perceivably. “ _His_ ki,” he said in a soft, wondering tone, cupping his hand over the flat of her belly.

Vegeta did not resist when Bulma tugged him back to the bed, but he continued to regard her questioningly, unsure. She had gone through too many emotions in too short a time, as had he; Vegeta was wary. Bulma was not.

>_>_>_

“I love you. So, from now on there will be nothing that I will keep from you. Will you tell me the truth as well?” Bulma said evenly and candidly. Vegeta pulled the comforter up around Bulma and moved a little further away, but he nodded silently.

“How did you know?” she asked and settled back in the nest of feather blanket. She would wait as long as it took.

Vegeta glanced at the table with his sand garden on it. He was gathering his thoughts.

“It was the pickles.”

Vegeta was almost always a man of few words but that was too little even for Bulma. However, she didn’t prompt him. The Woman simply waited.

Eventually, Vegeta gave up on that being enough.

“Alright. You’ve been acted strangely. Sleeping more, eating erratically. You’ve been quiet. You gave up coffee and started eating pickles,” he made a fleeting face. “You changed the way you have sex. Last night you wanted to watch a movie, fell asleep (of course) and I was lying here thinking. You moved, baring the place where I bit you. I scented you to see if that need to taste your blood was still there. It wasn’t. In fact, that seemed just as ghastly as it should have to begin with.”

Vegeta stood up and paced, “I got up and brought up everything on human females that I could find that seemed relevant on the internet.” He looked at her, “I couldn’t stand not understanding what was going on with you. The human female reproductive system is very complex, but there are somethings that seem relatively consistent. So, I used those factors to conclude that you may be breeding.”

Bulma smiled fondly and pressed her hand against her belly. “What factors? And please don’t ever use term ‘breeding’ again.”

Vegeta eyed her sharply but let that pass. “Saiyans have a much more highly evolved sense of smell than humans. It occurred to me that the reason I was so attracted to the scent and taste of your blood was the hormones your body makes. It is quite possible to find out if a woman is fertile by testing her blood.”

Vegeta paused, considering whether or not to tell her about the conversation with Kakarot. He decided to leave Kakarot to his own, that was private.  And he had to give the clown credit, Kakarot had mentioned their conversation to no one.

“Since I no longer had the desire to…well. Since it was gone it made sense that you were no longer producing hormones that would attract of genetically compatible mate.”

Bulma was grinning. Vegeta put a hand on his hip and glared at her, one long brow raised.

“Please don’t stop. I just didn’t know you would have made such an excellent scientist and I am impressed. There are few things more intensely attractive in a man than a brain like that,” she quipped, but her face was sincere.

Vegeta looked skeptical but went on, “Women who are breed-, carrying a child need to sleep more. The fetus often makes them feel ill in the beginning and that disrupts their feeding schedules- Oh what the hell?”

Vegeta was getting angry again. Bulma had burst in helpless laughter. “What is so fucking funny?” the Prince demanded, his cheeks pinking.

_Perhaps not the best time for a sense of humour. Suck it up, Bulma._

Bulma swallowed the giggles. Even without laughing it was impossible to explain to Vegeta that is was insulting to be spoken of though she were a farm animal with a feeding schedule, with a straight face. As insulting as it was for her condition to be called ‘breeding’.

“You fucking asked!”

Bulma quieted. She had indeed and he was answering in quite the most honest way he knew how. She stood up and went to him.

“I’m sorry. It is most amazing that you went to all the trouble to research that just to find out what was wrong with me,” Bulma told him without the slightest hint of laughter.

Vegeta said nothing and when she tried to touch him, he backed away again.

“You are going to have to stop doing that too, my Prince,” she advised, advancing on him again.

“Why?”

Bulma dropped the bulky blanket on the floor and continued to stalk him nude. When she had him in the corner of the room, she felt him powering up again. “Vegeta, trying to evade me is futile, I will catch you eventually and make you let me touch you. And if you fly; I will hunt you down with the ki radar. If that doesn’t work because you subdue you power level, I will send Son Goku to find you.”

Vegeta almost looked impressed, as well as trapped. Bulma took him by the hand, the gloveless one and thrilled at the touch of his skin. Vegeta scooped the blanket up as he was towed along and tucked it around her once she sat down, this time on the long settle that made up part of the rooms sitting area.

He stood several feet away from her, eyes on the floor and arms crossed.

“Please come here.”

Vegeta shook his head once. “Sex drive changes, as does personality in some women,” he continued, sotto voce, “and then there is the pickle thing. Over and over you find mention of those nasty things being craved by pregnant women and you’d just taken such a liking to them. Human women are supposed to have a…monthly flux. Is it alright to call it that!? You know, your culture is exhausting sometimes. But you have not had such a time of bleeding since you and I, um, came together.”

Vegeta began to pace again, not looking at her. “I came to you while you slept and…I could feel his ki inside of you.” He turned around and faced Bulma.

“It was his ki, not mine, that saved you from me when I lost control and blew my room apart. To save himself, and you, he wrapped you both in a shield. He is very strong. _Very strong_.”

Bulma was not remotely amused now. She was in awe.

“Like his Father. Powerful and brilliant,” she whispered, her voice gone again.

Vegeta turned away and said nothing for a while. His shoulders were set, his body rigid.

“I could not have done that. Even now,” he admitted. She could hear what that cost him.

“Vegeta please come to me.”

The Saiyan Prince did not move, even to shake his head. Bulma went to him. He flinched when he felt her touch him, wrap her arms around his waist.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

Vegeta inhaled. He turned his head, disbelief written all over his profile.

“How could you not know, Bulma? There is a baby inside you. Please don’t bullshit me.”

“I take a medication that is supposed to prevent pregnancy. It must not work on Saiyans or when one of you is with a human woman. But I didn’t know that and didn’t think of it. I thought there was something very, very, very different wrong with me. I told you. No more lies.”

Vegeta removed her hands from around him and pushed her back to the settle. He walked away. “What did you think was wrong with you?” he asked finally, his back to her.

“I will tell you. But first believe me when I saw that I am amazed by you. It took a genuinely brilliant mind to figure that. On a person not even of your own species. You underestimate your own brilliant mind.”

Vegeta shrugged. Then he spun around, eyes glittering onyx slits, “It is your turn now.”

Bulma felt her heart rate increase and by the way Vegeta tilted his head she knew he could hear it. But the time for lies was over.

The Woman pulled the blanket tightly around her and tried to breath.

_This is really going to hurt._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

“You said that you could not have done what you think the baby did. I know that you can, Vegeta. That so incredibly much more,” she said in a gush before she ran out of air. “I know you can Ascend just like Goku did and probably even higher. I _know_ that you can.”

Vegeta stood up straight, his arms so tight against his chest that he was almost hugging himself. His face was a mask of the unreadable.

“How?”

Bulma steeled herself, clasped her hands hard enough to break them both and stared directly into the Crown Prince’s crystal eyes.

“Because I have seen you do it.”

…

Vegeta held Bulma with an unwavering, unblinking gaze so heavy it crushed her. Forever. A strange vibration went through his body, making his entire form appear to shimmer. It wasn’t his aura though. Rather it was if he were shaking so hard and so fast that he blurred in her vision.

When he moved, she had trouble keeping him in focus, though he came so slowly it defied the laws of motion. Bulma tried to stay still and keep her eyes on his but she was petrified.

He stopped not two feet away from her. “Explain.”

He was shaking. Apparently at some large fraction of the speed of sound because there was a subsonic hum surrounding him that she could feel in her ribcage but not exactly hear.

“You didn’t exactly overload the GR when the fail safe made it power down. I was watching you on the monitors…” Bulma lost her nerve and had to take several deep breaths before she could go on. Vegeta was so close to her and the humming vibration was distracting, if not actually painful.

“The amount of power pouring out of you was too much for the machine and the further you pushed yourself the closer you pushed it to redline.”

She stopped again. Bulma hunched over and gagged. The subsonic sound was making her feel motion sickness. Had there been anything in her stomach, it would have left at a furious rate.

Vegeta seemed to realize what she was doing, become aware that he was the cause. He wrapped him arms around himself for a moment, trying to quell the super-human tremors running through him. Bulma gagged again, making Vegeta curse. He whipped his tail around in front of his body and caught it. Eyes squeezed closed in the anticipation of the pain; the Prince used his razor-sharp canines to bite down on his own tail.

The agonized scream of suffering echoed through the chamber and Bulma with shattering force. It brought Vegeta to his knees. Bulma lifted her head to see him kneeling before her with his bloody tail in his stained gloves.

“Vegeta…Oh gods, Vegeta,” the Woman implored him, afraid to touch him.

He didn’t open his eyes or his clenched teeth, but Vegeta spoke, “It’s stopped. Talk!”

Vegeta made no move to either soothe his bleeding tail and to stem the flow.

_How many times can my heart break in one day?_

“Vegeta please. Let me do something! Anything!” she begged, sliding off the settle to kneel next to him.

Vegeta flashed, a blurred streak in blue armour. He stopped on the other side of the room and dropped to his knees again, eyes closed. He was trying to breath.

“I need to know.” She didn’t even recognize his voice.

But she heard the pleading need in it.

“There GR was going to explode. Much worse than it did the first time. You were so close, Vegeta, changing right before my eyes but it was just too much,” tears overflowed her eyes and streamed down her face. “I hit the emergency shut down. I couldn’t let you die. I just couldn’t.” Bulma beat her fists against her thighs. “I’m so sorry, Vegeta, so,so sorry.”

Bulma dashed her hands across her face, hard like a slap, to wipe the useless tears away. She had caused him so much pain. He had vowed to protect her planet, to protect her. This man drove himself to the brink over and over, training until he was damn near dead on may occasions for a planet and a people he wasn’t even born to. And she’d given him more pain.

Bulma slapped herself across the face again and then again. She just didn’t know what else to do with the self-loathing in her head. Her hand rose to repeat the self-abusive gesture and Vegeta caught her wrist in a vice grip. He stood in front of her, legs spread and her hand in his fist.

“You will stop that this instant,” he gritted out insistently. Bulma, however, ripped her hand out of his grip and slapped herself again, hard. Her head whipped to the side. The smacking sound hadn’t even finish it echoing trip around the room and Vegeta had her locked in an unbreakable hold against his breastplate.

He shook her, trying to get her attention. “I said you will stop that!” this time he was loud and the ring of command in his voice blasted through her insane impulse.

Still crying like an idiot, Bulma buried her face in his neck, unable to move either of her arms.

Vegeta strode to the bed and flipped her down on her back, pinning her down with his body. She looked up. She didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to see his red soaked tail held high over his back and out of harms way but still bleeding. She didn’t want to see the bright red streaks on his face and his armour.

The Prince had reached the limit of what he was willing to put up with. He had her arms locked at her sides and with him on top of her there was nothing at all she could do move, let alone free herself. Bulma jerked her head back and forth, fighting him anyway. He was at a loss. Containing a person (without loss of limb or some other tragic and permanent injury) was not exactly in his skill set. He couldn’t use his tail, so, ever inventive- He pressed his mouth down on hers hard enough to bruise her lips. Bulma’s eyes flew open at this unexpected treatment and she stopped fighting him. Vegeta waited for a long moment, until he was certain that she was focused on him.

Without releasing her in anyway, he growled at her. The sound was vibrant and threatening, rumbling through her chest, “You are going to injure yourself. And before you say anything stupid, remember that if you hurt yourself you also hurt the child inside of you. My son. So, stop.”

His words had their intended effect on her. Bulma stilled and went limb. Vegeta cautiously lifted himself up and let her go.

Part of his mind that was removed from the immediate situation wondered if all bre-, pregnant women were this crazy.

_How had this species not gone extinct? The universe may never know._

Vegeta folded the covering over her, still following the million-year-old instinct to keep her warm. He watched her alertly, just in case she went on another spree of self-destruction.

“I’m sorry. So sorry for everything,” she mumbled in abject misery. Bulma turned her face away from him. Sobbing nearly silently.

He couldn’t stand to hear her cry like that.

It would have hurt less to bite his tail again, but Vegeta would make yet another sacrifice for Bulma.

“Is that why you’ve been tearing the GR apart? To make it strong enough to withstand a Saiyan who transforms?” he asked to distract her. Bulma nodded haltingly.

“If you hadn’t punched the shut-down, it would not have killed just me,” his jaw ached from the effort of forming these words, “The Compound would have been annihilated, am I right?”

No response. Vegeta knew he was right. He started to put his hand on her head, to ty and comfort her somehow.

_Covered in blood. Why does everything always end up covered in blood?_

Impatiently, Vegeta took the middle finger of his glove in his teeth and pulled it off. He did the same with the right one, so recently restored and threw them both away from him. Then he stroked Bulma blue head.

“Stop all this, Bulma. I am not angry with you. I can’t keep my promise or protect anyone of I’m dead.”

She turned her head under his hand. The blue of her eyes was now ringed in red and he didn’t like that at all.

Bulma pulled away and sat up. She hiccupped, getting herself together.

“That’s not all I need to tell you,” she croaked, cleared her throat and said, “There’s more.”

_Oh, for the fucks sake of fucking hell, do I even want to fucking know?_

Vegeta made a very strongly concerted effort to calm himself. He concentrated on the stabbing pain in his tail, letting it drown out everything else for a few moments.

He leaned over rested his elbows on his knees, looking at his boots.

“You turned one other time. The second time. You turned all the way. Super Saiyan.”

Vegeta had no reaction whatsoever. He was so drained, emotionally spent that he couldn’t even muster the strength to turn his head. Bulma waited and when he did nothing, she moved closer to him, trying to see his face.

“Vegeta, the second time…I saw you with my own eyes.”

There was only one time that could have happened.

He felt as though he weighed as much as a dying star. Breathing molten lead. In a black hole.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

_It doesn’t really matter._

>_>_>_

Bulma saw him deflate. His head hung almost to his knees, his big hands limp between them. Vegeta reached back over his head and yanked his breastplate off. He threw it into the midst of the growing mess on the floor of the chamber.

There might never be another moment for her to get him to hear her. She wasn’t at all sure he would hear her now.

For both their sakes and for the baby in her belly she would try.

“Because, I love you.”

Vegeta did turn at that. She’d said it before but this time it registered. His eyes were hollow, but he did look at her.

“You love me enough to deny me the thing I want most?” he asked in the voice of someone long dead.

Tears again. Vegeta couldn’t take anymore. He started to unfold himself. To stand. To walk. To leave.

Bulma threw herself across the bed and onto him, knocking his lack of strength sideways. She tried to hold him the way he had held her, lying on top of him, as if that could ever work.

Just for a moment, Vegeta let his head fall back on the bed. He searched for the strength or the will or anything he had left that would let him put her aside and leave this place without hurting her. That moment was all Bulma needed.

She pushed herself up and over him.

“I love you enough to want to keep you with me until I could give you the thing you need to win.”

Mechanically, Vegeta took hold of her. He was gentle but also a Saiyan. He picked her up, lifting her so he could raise his torso. Vegeta made to set Bulma away from him. There was nothing she could do to stop him, to make him hear her words.

Crack!

Crack!

Vegeta blinked rapidly. A very red-faced Bulma was kneeling on the bed, holding her right hand by the wrist with her left. Livid tears stood out in her eyes. Her dainty lips were drawn back like an angry cat.

Vegeta put his bare hand against his left cheek.

_What the hell just happened?_

The Prince studied the naked lunatic in the room with him.

“What good did you think that was going to do?” he asked, mildly curious.

“I thought it might get you to actually listen,” she spit, “If that doesn’t work, I will shoot you in your perfect ass with a laser cannon! I’m Bulma fucking Briefs, you know. There are weapons of mass destruction in cupboards in my kitchen!”

Vaguely, Vegeta wondered if it would be alright to laugh. She had already shot him a number of times with the laser cannon. It packed about the same ouch power as Yamcha.

Bulma put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down, knocking him over onto his back. Vegeta watched her in a disconnected way. As though he were looking through someone else’s eyes or seeing something unreal.

_She is so gorgeous. Even when she’s screaming at me. Pretty._

Vegeta reached up and touched her face. Sliding his hand around her head, Vegeta pulled her down to him and ran his tongue in a circle around her mouth. Bulma gasped, which just made her heavy breasts flatten against the width of his chest. He took one plush ass cheek in his free hand, squeezing.

The Woman slammed her hands into his collar bones, trying to push herself away. The Prince ignored this and kissed her again, careful not to let her get his tongue her mouth. She was like an eel, both very hard to hold onto and fun to try and capture.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she screeched at him when she managed to get away from his mouth. He let her lift herself off his chest, knowing what she would do.

Bulma swung her ready hand at his exposed cheek again. She let out a biting curse when his tail whipped around and caught her hand at the wrist. Vegeta smiled serenely, even though her energetic struggles caused massive bolts of pain through his injured tail.

He had two free hands and she only one. It was easy to wrap one hand around her tiny wrist and very carefully fold her arm behind her back. He held both wrists together and his tail effectively cuffed them at the small of her back. She bucked and fought like a wild cat. Which was very alluring but ultimately useless. He had to admit he enjoyed it though.

She was still screaming and spitting at him but he had practice not hearing that. Vegeta waited again, holding her against him. Predictably, she got so angry that she tried to bring up her knees and crush a nut.

Vegeta let and hooked his own leg behind her knees. Using the infallible strength of his core, Vegeta sat up in a surge of power. This, because of the way he was holding her, served to bring the furious woman into position kneeling between his legs, with her arms trussed behind her back.

Vegeta pulled on Bulma’s trapped wrists, making her bend backward. He leaned forward and kissed her exposed throat and white shoulders. Her screaming broke. This position made her breasts jut out, ripe and delectable. Vegeta cupped one and drew in the nipple. Bulma made the gasping sigh he’d been hoping for. He suckled hard, taking the pink tip deep.

She wasn’t shouting at him anymore. She still fought his hold on her but without the death threats.

When he switched side, Bulma changed. She pressed herself harder against his mouth, offering him more of herself.

Vegeta was using his tail to hold her hands and one iron calf to secure her legs. Both hands free.

_Sometimes it’s good to be a Saiyan._

Vegeta fondled her, suckling hard enough to make her already large nipples swell. His other hand ran up the warm slit between her legs.

“Vegeta…”she breathed, spreading her thighs wider.

“Bulma, I am…fond of you.”

Bulma lifted her head so she could look at him. He relaxed his tail a little, so she could straighten. She sat lower, resting her weight on his bulging calf muscle in the blue sub-armour.

A breathless Bulma shook her head vigorously to clear it, “You heard me?”

Vegeta released her nipple. He laughed, nuzzling the other one, “How could I not hear you, you’ve been screaming at me for a very long time.”

The Prince wet a tapered finger in his mouth. This he pressed against the little nub near the top of the slit. Bulma shook gently and rolled her hips.

“You can’t train on Earth, can you?” she asked.

Vegeta shook his head, intent on the juicy crack he was exploring with his fingers, “I have to be some place where there is no one to endanger. I need to be alone.”

It was hard to talk while being touched and invaded this way, having her nipples roughly taken and her clit circled maddeningly softly.

“You could take the GR and land it is some god’s forsaken waste land on Earth and train there,” the Woman suggested thoughtfully.

Vegeta smiled ruefully around the breast in his mouth, holding the pebble of her nipple between his teeth, careful always to avoid his sharp canines. He dipped finger wet fingertip in the well between her legs, just enough to tease and make her jerk reflexively.

“If you are within lightyears of me, it’s too much of a distraction. I wouldn’t be able to stay away. As I said I am fond of you.”

“I love you.” Bulma was rewarded for that with a deep, satisfying thrust into her by two fingers.

“Exactly why I _have_ to go.”

Bulma cried out softly and the sound wasn’t due to the pleasure Vegeta was giving her. It was for the thought of the loss of it. For the loss of him.

“If I stay now…there might not be a future for you and the child. We have to fight to kill, fight to win. That’s the only way we can live.”

Vegeta released Bulma. She wrapped her arms around him, savouring the feeling of her overly sensitive nipples against the velvety neoprene of his skin tight sub-armour. The eager bulge fighting for freedom lower down. But it was his mouth that she took. There was just no equal to kissing Vegeta.

Bulma didn’t give up his mouth when she searched for and located the invisible seam that held his sub-armour together. The seam split apart with a tug at the right place and opened down past his waist. The Woman pushed it away, down his arms until he could pull them free. She wanted, needed to be touching his skin.

“Why did you act so…” she let that question go, deciding instead to focus on divesting him of the rest of his clothing. Vegeta was not so inclined. He let her work on that, taking his time with pink places he would only be able to dream about in space.

“Everything…It was a lot to take it and when I realized what you were really saying and what that meant, part of me didn’t want to go. I needed a minute. I’ve spent most of always alone. Cold, empty, dark space just sounds like more of that. Which would be fine if I hadn’t ever had this.”

Vegeta lifted his hips and Bulma pulled the bottom part of his armour off, leaving him bare. He turned her over and laid her on her side with her back to him. Vegeta buried his face in her, rubbing mouth over the healed mark. He pressed his hand to her belly, feeling the living ki inside her.

“Please be careful until I return. Don’t do any of the idiotic things you usually do and endanger yourself or this boy. Keep yourself safe.”

Bulma lifted her leg and rested one small shapely foot on his hip. Vegeta curled around her and her hand guided him to the warm welcome of her body. Gently, he eased himself inside her. He rocked her, loving the roundness of her ass in his lap. Bulma pressed her back to his chest and held his open palm against her bouncing breasts.

“You will come back?” she wanted him to say it.

Vegeta fucked her a little harder but not too much. He wanted to feel her come first. His moved his hand down to pluck and rub the wet little clit. When she started to tighten around him, he answered.

“I will return to you.”

Bulma turned her torso in his arms so she could taste his mouth while she came on the length of his cock. So, she could suckle his tongue as the moment he filled her with his essence, pumping her full enough to overflow.

There was never going to be anything better than this. She could never get enough. She would want more of this man, crave him until she took her last breath. She could  never love anyone else this way; what man could ever measure up against Vegeta.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this. I hope you love reading it. Try EfriZ_ on YouTube. It's amazing and this person uploads often. It will give you inspiration. I found it, loved it and I know you will too. Thank you for everything. I loved doing it. Anything for my Prince.  
> PS. I still own nothing.


End file.
